Professor Muggle and the Secret Author
by MuggleBeene
Summary: Professor Muggle is once again called upon by the Auror Department, this time to help investigate the publication of the popular, but blatantly incorrect story of Harry Potter called The Potter Adventure Series. A contagion threatens the magical population as well, specifically his friends the Malfoys. Can Hank discover the author and escape the magical disease?
1. It All Started With a Book

**A/N: This story takes place after the events of the third Professor Muggle novel. If you haven't read Professor Muggle, Professor Muggle: Year 2 and Professor Muggle and the Lost Witch you will be rather lost. Events in this story take place a few years after Lost Witch. A large 'thank you' goes out to Headless Huntsman and all the denizens of The Teachers' Lounge.**

**It All Started With A Book**

"Harry, are you sure about this? I mean, it's not like I'm a journalist. And now you're Virginia's godfather, so there's definitely no way I'm objective." I looked over at Harry and watched him nod. "Really?"

"Really, Hank." He adjusted his glasses and his eyes changed, becoming very focused. "I want to get out ahead of this.'

"I'm pretty sure that ship's sailed." I picked up a copy of the first volume of The Potter Adventure Series. "Or according to this, it rode away on the back of a dragon with you and your harem."

I felt bad because it was all, well, partially my fault. When I had been in New Orleans a few years ago I'd brought back a copy of what was known as The Potter Adventure series; a group of books that were fictionalized accounts of what happened to my friend Harry Potter. Highly fictionalized accounts. Batshit crazy fictionalized accounts. Somehow those stories hadn't made it over to the UK but now, somehow, the British underground book trade was full of them. Who knew there was an underground book trade?

"Let's just finish this up, Hank. I can't take too long."

I nodded. "Yes sir, Head Auror, sir."

Unfortunately Harry never got a chance to respond as an Auror interrupted, whispered something in his ear, and that was that. So much for getting out ahead of the Potter Adventure Series in the UK.

Harry dismissed the Auror and sighed. "Hank, I've got to do something now but what about tomorrow? Feel like a trip over to the UMS? We could do the interview and then you'd have time to see your family. Ministry will take care of the portkey, of course." He smiled and took on a mock-serious expression. "You are still the Muggle Consultant for the Auror Department. That's it. Use that if you get any..."

"Harry, with two kids at home of course I'll get flak. At least Nonky's there. Ok, ok, I get it. I'll clear it with Mel. Just owl me the details later." After Harry left I took a look at my watch. Half ten. Melody and the kids were over at Forthingsgate, my mother-in-law's place for the day, and I wasn't expected anywhere until supper. It would probably get me into some trouble but I needed some new music, and I knew exactly who my partner in crime would be.

Leaving the Ministry and walking to the little parking lot close by I pulled out my mobile phone, powered it on, and called Mike Greene. Besides being my old Muggle college roommate and being married to Cho, the Charms professor at Hogwarts, Mike had an added plus; he was a working actor in the Muggle world so he had to have not only a working phone but a mobile phone available at all times. Of course he answered immediately.

"Hey Mike, Hank here. Up for some music shopping? There's a place that sells vinyl we haven't checked out yet." A buzz went through my phone and I looked down, since it could only be a few people. Not many had my number. "Shit, sorry, Mike, it's Mel. I'll call you back." I switched over to her call. "Hi honey, everything ok at home?"

I listened for a while and realized that my little record shopping expedition with Mike was postponed. I'd forgotten about watching the kids while she and her mother went looking for a dress for some reception that night. A reception that I'd promised her that I would attend, as it was being held at Forthingsgate, and it was a press thing. Not what I wanted to do, but at least those things are pretty painless. That's what I thought, anyway.

-ooo-

"The dress looks fine, Mel. You butt looks great, actually." I ducked to avoid the swat. "Seriously, love, you look fine."

"Behave, Henry."

I watched my wife smooth down her hair and take a drink of the non-alcoholic punch. So far it had been the typical Forthingsgate reception; all of my mother-in-law's society and philanthropic friends, some of the people who were the ones who did whatever-cause-it-was this time, various other minor celebrities and the such commingled with the media there to cover the event. It was a time of polite chit-chat, boring music, decent food and the promise of an early evening after all the official photographs had been taken.

"Um, Mel, what's this for, anyway?"

Melody rolled her eyes. "And I thought you actually paid attention the other day." She sighed. "This is the reception for the new research center for St. Mungo's. Mum and several others contributed to the new wing."

"Mungo's, new research center, got it. Um, so what are they researching?"

"Merlin, Hank! Do you have new invisible headphones from George or something? Is that why you didn't hear a word of what I told you the other night?"

"No, I don't have invisible headphones but that's a damned good idea. Of course my students would probably use them in class, but that's beside the point. Yes, I was listening but I didn't remember. Ok?" I pulled a glass of chameleon champagne off of a tray that floated by. "So besides your mum's friends is anybody else going to be here?"

"Hermione and Ron, for sure. Hermione has been involved with the paperwork, well, her and Percy. And no, thank Helga, George will _not_ be here. I don't need you two mucking things up tonight. Remember, Hank, this is about St. Mungo's. Act accordingly."

"Yes, dear. Of course, dear. Wouldn't dream of it, dear."

Melody shook her head and held up two fingers. It was her reminder that she was taking care of two small children.

Hermione and Ron hadn't shown and it became obvious after visiting with a few people that not only had they not read any of my books they didn't really know who I was. In a way that was kind of insulting, but in reality I had fun with it, introducing myself as a different person with each drink. Firewhiskey? I was Michael Corleone. Glass of water to pace myself? Inigo Montoya. Flaming Dragon? Francis Sinatra, but you can call me Frank. So much for being a minor celebrity in the Wizarding world.

To be honest I was a little buzzed when Hermione and Ron showed up. Hermione said hello and then went to find Melody, so at last I finally had someone else at the reception who wanted to be there even less than me. It was obvious that he was only attending for Hermione's sake; even though he had on the formal dress robes and looked all spiffed up and clean I could tell that Auror Weasley would rather be down at his local or talking Quidditch. He downed a glass of chameleon champagne, put the empty down on the floating tray and took another glass.

"So, Ron, highlight of your social calendar for the month?"

"Laugh it up, Boyd. Harry already told me you're going with him to the UMS. I know there'll be a lot of paperwork. Your favorite."

I shrugged. "I'll have Edith help me. Yeah, she's your assistant now, but..."

"Whatever." He leaned back against the wall and surveyed the crowd, milling about amongst the elegantly decorated tables. "At least this is for a good cause." He looked over quickly to me and then returned his gaze out to the crowd. "Neville say anything about this to you?"

"What, the reception? No...why?"

He sighed. "Sorry, thought he would have, close as you two are...he's involved in this because of his parents. Not publicly, but he's involved. Ran into him down at the Leaky a while back and he...you won't say anything, right?"

I nodded. I knew of Neville's deepest desire, to have his parents returned to a normal life. I knew how many times we'd talked about it, how much of his own money he'd sunk into a possible cure, of all the time he'd spent reading and researching, all of it fruitless. I hadn't known of his involvement with the new thing at St. Mungo's, but I knew that once we started Hogwarts for the term he'd eventually tell me about it, probably over a drink in my room. Instead of saying that to Ron I just nodded.

"Sure. No problem, Ron." Out of the corner of my eye I saw a couple heading over to us, directly to us as it was obvious there was no other reason to come in that direction. There were no drinks, no tables, it was just me and Ron standing against the wall. "Uh, Ron? You know these two?"

"Nope."

Before I could say anything else the couple was there next to us, him extending his hand. "Professor Boyd? I'd like to thank you."

I shook his hand. "You're welcome. What'd I do?"

As the man looked over to what I assumed was his wife I took the two of them in; he was tall, at least six foot one or so, ridiculously good hair, trim and probably one of the 'beautiful people' of the wealthy wizarding charitable set. She reminded me of a trophy wife from the looks of her but for some reason there was a lot more intelligence, mostly in her eyes. Tall, honey-blonde hair that fell down around her shoulders with the air of someone who used to be a model. I really wanted to dislike them but remembered to keep an open mind.

The man looked over to his wife. "Faith, this is Professor Boyd, Hope's Muggle Studies professor."

With that sentence everything clicked. I only had one student named Hope in Muggle Studies, Hope Humphries, daughter of Brian and Faith Humphries. That in and of itself was not interesting, that I met the parents of one of my students, but Hope Humphries' father was not just any old person; he was my wife's ex-husband. The man who married my Melody when they were very young and very drunk and had a very short marriage.

I shook Faith Humphries' hand and smiled. "Very nice to meet you."

"As my husband said, thank you, Professor." She smiled and took her husband's arm. "Hope was going through a little phase..."

"She was spoiled and coddled, Professor." Brian gave his wife a pointed look. "You know that's the truth, dear." He turned back to me. "I know she hated losing house points for Ravenclaw, but I believe your detentions did her a world of good. She's actually reading for enjoyment now, not only to get ahead in her studies."

Before I could respond I saw Hermione and Melody walking towards us, oblivious to who we were talking to, as the Humphries had their backs to them. Of course the minute that Melody came up to me, handed me a drink and turned to them I felt her stiffen up momentarily."

"Melody."

"Brian."

An awkward silence descended and then I felt Ron's elbow in my side. "Well, I'm glad it helped. I don't like giving detentions and taking away house points, but I think Hope's finally realized that in order to become Minister for Magic it helps to know a bit about the Muggle world these days."

A slight chuckle came from Ron who held out his hand. "Merlin, don't get him started. I'm Ron..."

"Of course we know you, Mr. Weasley." Faith Humphries shook his hand. "As well as you, Mrs. Weasley." She turned to Melody. "And Mrs. Boyd, I do enjoy the direction you've taken _Witch Weekly._ Very engaging." With a smile she turned to her husband. "I believe we've taken enough of their time, dear."

After the Humphries had left Ron looked over to Melody. "You know, he does seem like a nice bloke. Lot more hair than the one you've got now."

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Melody, I take it that was..."

"My ex-husband." Melody took my arm and looked up at me. "And you know I don't care how much hair you have, Hank. It was just odd seeing you two standing there. Very, very odd."

I kissed her on the top of her head. "Oh come on, you know it was bound to happen eventually. The wizarding world is pretty small when you get down to it. Plus I'm at Hogwarts...unless they sent their daughter to one of the other few magical schools...see what I mean? Besides, it's no big deal. Actually, they were thanking me for giving her some detentions, so that beats the usual 'my child did nothing wrong' argument I usually get from parents."

Ron leaned over. "What'd she do?"

I shook my head. "Parent-student privilege."

He leaned closer and whispered. "George told me what..."

Quickly, and louder than I planned, I blurted out "She didn't do her homework because she said Muggle Studies was useless if she was going to work in the Ministry someday and be the Minister."

Hermione struggled to cover her chuckle by covering her mouth with her hand. I looked down and my wife simply smiled at me.

"I had lunch with Angelina the other day, remember? I know all about you and George and your little trip..."

Before she could finish my mother-in-law's house elf tugged on Melody's elbow and pointed across the room. There, standing next to the Head Healer of St. Mungo's, was my mother-in-law, and to be honest Lane Bramble looked a little bit miffed. She looked at us and tapped her watch.

"Uh, Mel, I think we're in trouble. Your mom is doing the watch tapping thing again."

"Great." Melody smoothed her hair and straightened her glasses. "Well if I have to be in this picture so do you, Hermione. Come on." She grabbed Hermione's arm and the two women through the tables towards the people standing around for the photo op.

Ron glanced at me. "Drink?"

"Hell yes."

"About time." Ron grabbed an entire tray of drinks as it floated by. "I'm not used to you with proper language. It's just wrong."

I grabbed a flute of chameleon champagne and shot it in one go. "Fuck you, Weasley."

He laughed and slapped me on the back. "Much, much better."

When we made it to the area where all the picture participants were milling about Lane took out her wand and held it to her throat. With a quick _Sonorous_ her voice filled the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all have a seat...thank you. Before we take the picture I'd like to have Head Healer Paxaro say a few words."

The short, round form of the Paxaro, a man with even less hair than me, made his way towards Lane and replicated her _Sonorous_. With a semi-squeeky voice he surveyed the crowd. "Thank you, Lane. I would like this time to thank the donors; without such generous and charitable souls we would not be able to undertake such a worthy endeavor. I would like to thank Lane Bramble for her tireless efforts and her gracious offer of hosting tonight's event. Thank you, Lane." He smiled at Lane who nodded at him. "And I would like to thank the members of the Witches' Guild for their fundraising efforts. Ladies, thank you. I would also like to thank DAS Enterprises for their contribution of not only Galleons but of cutting-edge magical equipment, some of which is highly experimental."

I smirked when I heard that, which made Melody give me a look. I mouthed 'later' to her but she didn't agree as she pulled on my sleeve. I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "It's Draco's organization, its the Malfoy family initials. Draco, Astoria, Scorpius."

She raised and eyebrow and seemed surprised. I turned back to the Paxaro.

"...and last but not least the generous endowment from Enid and Reginald Worpinsnapper, who sadly could not be with us tonight but instead have sent their representative to not only attend this grand function but to also take the pictures, Ms. Rowan Wright from New York."

I heard Hermione make an exited sound next to me as the assembled crowd clapped appreciatively. "Is she a big deal?"

"Yes, Hank, she is; she's the most celebrated fashion photographer in the UMS. Her wizarding photos are in all the best magazines and some of them are in galleries."

"I'd love to have her do a shoot for _Witch_ _Weekly_." Melody leaned across me to talk to Hermione. "Can you imagine what that would do for our circulation? Especially the fashion issue?"

"Get your mom to introduce you, Mel. She's the big wheel here tonight." Before Melody could respond the crowd burst into a large round of applause and I saw Lane and Paxano holding a large, fake bag of Galleons with an absurdly large number written on it. The flash went off and the crowd started milling about again, but with Lane, Paxano and the Witches' Guild standing up in front for photos. "I think that's our cue, Ron."

Ron tugged at his tie, loosened it and unbuttoned the top button on his dress robes. "Oh yeah. Hate these bloody things."

"Oh no, Hank. You're coming with me to talk to mum. You should ask her for the introduction. You know you can talk her into almost anything."

I glanced over to Ron. "Shut up, Weasley." I surveyed the crowd around the photographer, who could only be seen from behind and then just a portion of her head. "She's surrounded, Mel. Give it a bit and let the crowd thin out."

"Oh no, she'll have left by then. I'm not going to miss my chance at an introduction. Besides, maybe she's read one of your books...maybe she's a fan of yours. You never know. "

"That's buttering me up and it totally worked." I sighed. "Ok, come on, but if you don't get to actually meet her it's not my fault."

We made our way slowly through the crowd, stopping and talking with people every now and then, mostly people that Mel knew from some press events or something like that, and eventually we made it up to the spot where the 'famous photographer' was taking pictures of Lane and Paxano with a certificate from the couple that couldn't be there, and that's when it hit me. I knew exactly who Reginald and Enid were...George and Angelina Weasley. Reginald was one of George's aliases when he wanted to go out and not be 'the World Famous Weasley' as he liked to say. At least this time the alias went for a good cause; the last time I'd seen him use it was when he tried to stick me with a rather large bar tab from a Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes trip I accompanied him on in Canada. It was while I was thinking about that when I felt Melody tug me in the other direction.

"Hank, I'd like you to meet Ms. Rowan Wright."

I turned to say hello and it was like going back in time. Still the same green eyes, blonde hair and the mole on her cheek. Holy shit.

"Hank, what's wrong?" Melody looked at me oddly and then she looked over at the photographer. "Ms. Wright?"

She let the camera go slack and held it in one hand at her side. "Hank...you lost a lot of hair. Merlin, what are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"Hank?" Melody looked up at me. "What's going on?"

I swallowed hard. There was no way this was actually happening. "Mel, her name wasn't Rowan Wright when I knew her. It was Christine. Christine Rowan." I looked at Christine and some things finally started clicking into place. "You're a witch, right?"

"Yes." She nodded, looked over to Melody and then back to me. "Your wife?"

"Somebody had better start explaining something, fast." Melody put her hand on her hip. "Henry Aaron..."

"MacDonald Boyd." Rowan shook her head. "I never put two and two together. Hogwarts, right?"

I nodded. I wanted to say something but I couldn't.

Rowan looked over to Melody. "I dated him for a while in college. Well, he was in college."

"Bloody brilliant." Ron started laughing until Hermione elbowed him.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "I can't believe you...yes I can." She stepped up, took his arm and smiled at us all. "It's been a lovely evening but we need to retrieve our children. I'll set up a time so we can get all of the kids together soon, Melody. Good night."

As Hermione hustled Ron away I stood there between my wife and my ex-girlfriend, but it was different than earlier when I'd been with the Humphries and Melody. Christine Rowan was what Mike Greene called my 'voodoo woman' ex-girlfriend, the one that got away, all those sorts of things. Now here she was, in front of me, after all those years. Surreal didn't even begin to describe it.

"Listen..." Christine brushed her hair back from her face. "I've got to go, I've got a private shoot early in the morning, but I'm here for another day or so. I think I owe you an explanation." She saw the look of surprise on Melody's face. "Probably both of you an explanation. And Melody, your mother said something about Witch Weekly. If it is ok with you I'll send you an owl." Suddenly she stepped forward and kissed me on the cheek. "It is good to see you again, Hank. Nice meeting you, Melody. I'll look forward to your owl."

As she left I knew there would be a rather long conversation that night with my wife. I also knew that I had to tell Mike Greene what had happened. I leaned down and kissed Melody on the lips softly. "Listen, I know...shit, I have no idea. Let's go home. I'm sure Lavinia will give us a report on the kids. I'll fill you in."

For a second I thought she was going to be angry at me but her eyes softened and I saw that mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, you will most certainly fill me in about..." she waved her hand in the direction that Christine had left "...that."

"Absolutely."

As we walked out of the main room to one of the designated Apparition points I knew that it would be a long, long night of retelling things that I had forgotten about for a long time. On purpose.


	2. Kenobi, Ben Kenobi

**Chapter 2: Kenobi, Ben Kenobi**

"Start at the beginning, Henry." Melody sat on the sofa with a cup of decaffeinated tea. "That's usually the best place. You were in college in the UMS..."

"Oh. Shit. I have to go there tomorrow with Harry. Auror thing." I don't know why that popped out when there were other things more, well, things I needed to tell her, but it came out anyway. "Don't know how long that'll be. Sorry. I think he said just for the day."

"Well..." she shrugged "...just make sure Harry is there to witness any other old girlfriends."

I gave her an odd look. "You're taking this reaalllly, really well."

"Why shouldn't I, Hank? We have two children, you've moved to another country, not to mention all the things we've gone through together, why should I worry?" Suddenly she gave me her patented pointed look. "I _don't_ have anything to worry about, do I?"

"No! Not at all. It's just...weird." I stood up and went over to the bar where I poured myself a stiff Old Ogden's. "I mean, I know Brian was there tonight and that was weird but we knew that would happen, but with Christine...Rowan...with, with her it's like seeing a ghost." I took a big drink and sat down on the sofa next to her and she took the opportunity to lean back against the arm of the sofa and put her feet into my lap. I knew that that meant: rub. I did that immediately. "She messed me up for quite a while. Mike knows the whole story, I mean, we were roommates at the time and he had to pick up the pieces and...well...it isn't pretty."

"What did you tell me when I told you about Brian, Hank? I was young. You were young."

"You're still young."

"Hank..."

I pushed my glasses to the top of my head. "Shit, I wish Mike was here, he'd help me fill in the details...I remember a lot up until she broke up with me but after that I was a drunken mess."

"So how'd you meet her? How long did the two of you go out?" She looked at me and then her tone was much softer. "She broke your heart, didn't she?"

"Yeah." I nodded and focused on rubbing Melody's feet. "Yeah, she did." I exhaled in resignation. Telling Melody about Christine would not be fun as it definitely wasn't my finest hour. I'd mentioned Christine in passing before, lumping her in with all the other old girlfriends, but I never went into detail. "Like you said, I was young."

A knock on the door surprised both of us and I took a look at the clock; a little past midnight. _Who the hell could that be?_ Before I could get up I heard Mike Greene's voice from behind the door, somewhat frantic.

"Hank! Hank, is everybody ok? Let me in!"

"What the fuck?" I let go of Melody's feet and went to the door where I figured it out instantly; standing next to Mike, looking as if he was expecting gloom and doom, was our house elf Nonky. "We're fine, Mike. Come on in and I'll explain."

Mike had on a pair of gym shorts, a t-shirt from our alma mater and some flip-flops. His hair was tied back roughly and to be honest it looked like Nonky woken him up. After about the first five words out of Mike's mouth I found out I was right. I apologized and he waved me off.

"I'm just glad y'all are all right. When Nonky showed up and said you needed me right away, well, here I am."

"Thanks." I looked over at Mel and she was grinning. "I still can't believe you're enjoying this."

"Oh, payback and all that." She smiled at Mike. "We ran into one of Hank's old girlfriends tonight at a function."

"What?" Mike sat back in the chair. "Not Janine...how the hell..."

"Hank found out he dated a witch before me and didn't know it." She looked over at me. "Shall we see if he can guess who?"

Mike shook his head. "Un-fucking-real. Ok, not Janine, for obvious reasons..."

"Voodoo." I locked eyes with Mike and nodded. He got it immediately.

"No fucking way."

"Yeah, she's some fancy wizarding photographer."

Before I could say anything else I heard the Floo come to life and saw Harry Potter's head in the green flames. "Hank, are you ready?"

"What?" I walked over and knelt down in front of the fireplace. "Am I ready? That's tomorrow."

"You didn't get the message." Harry shook his head. "I Flooed Lavinia earlier while you were out and she said she'd leave you a message."

"Well, things have been interesting, Harry. We're up, you wanna come through?"

A few seconds later Harry stood in our living room, brushing off Floo powder. "Hello, Melody. Sorry about this, but with the time difference and our schedule we need to go soon. Hello, Mike." He looked back to Melody. "Sorry about that. How are the kids? Are you ok with my taking Hank away for a bit?"

My wife looked over at Harry and shook her head. "Doesn't seem like I have a choice. To be honest I'm glad it's you and not George, Harry. Every time Hank goes with George..."

I cut her off. "I know, I know. Ok, give me a minute, Harry. Do I need to pack anything? Do I need my 'toys?' Or is this just a..."

Harry shook his head. "No, you won't need your handguns, Hank. It's a research thing."

"Don't worry, Hank. I'll have Nonky take Mike back home." Melody smiled at me. "After I hear a few stories."

_Fuck._

-ooo-

After heading back to the Auror office to get my Auror robe and then back to Colony House for my Auror badge, and after cursing slightly and getting the 'if you were a real Auror I'd have your arse' look Harry and I finally took the international portkey and arrived on what was rapidly determined to be a beach. Harry had managed to arrive standing up, but me? Yeah, on my ass in the sand. Not only that, it was early. It was really, really early. Like before midnight early. It didn't make me happy, but I followed Harry up the small dune and onto the weathered boards that made up the steps to the house with its dimly lit window. The wind whipped around and I felt the heaviness of the Auror robe against the warmth and humidity of the air; definitely not a climate that the Auror robes were designed for, that was for sure. I began sweating almost immediately.

"Harry..."

He shook his head and pointed at the house. I got the message; shut up, idiot, until inside. Fine. As we did the short walk I looked around, trying to get my bearings. It could be several places on the coast that I knew, but in the dark it was hard to tell. When we got to the door Harry took out his wand and did some sort of waving thing and the doorknob began to glow a soft blue. He waited until the doorknob stopped glowing, put his wand away and walked into the house. I followed closely behind because I knew the only thing I could do with my wand is light things on fire, specifically NOT cigarettes or cigars because Melody made me give those up when we had our daughter.

The inside of the place looked like a typical beach house, some mismatched furniture, tile floors, odds and ends lying around; the type of place where you could kick back and do nothing for a long, long time. Unfortunately that's not what happened.

"Hank? You need to come up with an alias, I don't want the contacts to know who you really are."

"An alias? Nice." I nodded my head. "Hmm...what should I pick...something that Muggles would know? Are we meeting Muggles or magical..."

"Magical, no Muggles." He looked at his watch. "And make it quick, they're almost here." A pop of a portkey announced that they were, in fact, here. "Quick, now!"

"Ben Kenobi!"

As soon as it was out of my mouth Harry flicked his wand and my Auror badge no longer read Hank Boyd, it read Ben Kenobi. Before I could say that I always wanted to be a Jedi the door began to open. I glanced over to Harry but it wasn't Harry, it was a blonde-haired guy with blue eyes. With Harry's glasses. I adjusted mine quickly and he got the hint, taking his off and putting them away right as the the others arrived.

There were two of them, a taller one and a shorter one, I couldn't tell anything else but that because they wore blue AAB robes, the blue of the American Auror Bureau. As the tall one put down the cowl of the robe I could tell that he looked familiar but I couldn't place him. The shorter one took down his cowl as well and I could tell that I'd never met him before because he had one of the most unique beards I'd ever seen in my life. It was long, blonde and turned into a fork not far from his chin and then split out into two rolls, like someone had curled up a length of hose. If he was a Muggle I'm really Ben Kenobi.

Harry stepped forward. "Six, four, three. Boggarts bound at midnight."

The tall man nodded and stepped closer to Harry. "Eight, two, seven. Quidditch or Quodpot, it's a quandary."

I couldn't help it, I busted out laughing. "Really? Bounding boggarts and quandaries about Quidditch? Really? Why not 'the laughing sparrow drinks no water' or 'yankee hotel foxtrot.' That's hilarious." Everyone looked at me and I was sure Harry was going to hex me. "Ok, ok, sorry. It just sounded funny."

Both of the AAB agents looked at me funny then focused on Harry. Harry shrugged. "He's from the research group, no real field work."

"Your accent isn't British." The tall one looked at me for a moment and then he kind of winked at me. "But that isn't important right now. You're wearing Auror robes and if he vouches for you..." He nodded at Harry.

"I do." Harry nodded in agreement. "Ok, let's get down to this. You have something for us."

Beard man reached into his robes and brought out a manuscript. It looked like someone had taken a bunch of parchment and had fastened it on the sides to create a very rough book. It was about as thick a college dictionary. He handed it to Harry. "We intercepted this one before it went to press, which may buy us some time. This volume contains details about the Aurors and specific missions which lead us to believe there is a leak within the Ministry." He then turned to me. "I take you are the 'expert', then? What are your qualifications for dealing with sensitive information like this? Are you a literary expert or just a parchment shuffler?"

I didn't like the snotty tone of his, but before I could answer Harry stepped between us. "He's an Auror Consultant and was personally picked for this by the Head Auror. As for his qualifications I don't believe that's any of your business."

I wanted to leave it at that but couldn't. "Oh, I'm more than a 'parchment shuffler.' Let me ask you, ever read Hemingway? Faulkner? Kafka? What about Murakami?"

Beard guy shook his head dismissively. "Never heard of them, they must be minor authors. I've taught..."

The other AAB agent stepped over and put his hand on beard guy's shoulder. "Enough, Rembert. I know about Auror..."

"Kenobi. Ben Kenobi." I smiled at him and saw him stifle a laugh. He looked more and more familiar.

"Right. Auror Kenobi." The agent nodded. "Rembert, why don't you and the Auror discuss some details regarding how we acquired this while I speak with Auror Kenobi." After Harry and beard guy stepped away safely out of earshot he stuck out his hand. "Professor, I thought that was you but I haven't seen you since...I'm Agent Wright. I was part of the detail that did cleanup on your parents' house during the WLF attack years ago."

"I thought you looked familiar, but that was a crazy time." I shook his hand. "Thanks for that. I take it Beardo over there thinks he's hot shit in the literary department."

"Yeah, part of what you Brits would call the Department of Mysteries. Spends all his time in the research department looking through old parchment." He leaned forward and in a quieter voice said "He's a prick."

I chuckled and nodded. "I know the type. Did my time in academic circles. So this book?"

"I'm sure you'll get the briefing. I'll say hello to your sister-in-law. Stay safe." He turned to beard guy. "It's time, Rembert."

The two AAB agents touched a small piece of rope and disappeared, obviously a portkey. That left Harry and I alone in the little place. Harry took off his Auror robe, hung it on the back of the kitchen chair and proceeded to start the kettle. I followed suit, hung up my Auror robe, sat down at the table and watched as Harry returned to his usual appearance.

"Hank, how long do you think it'll take you to read that?"

I turned the book over in my hands and flipped pages. "Shit, this is double-sided, it's gonna take a while."

"Guess I'd better do more than make tea, then."

"Harry, so we're here until I finish reading this?"

He nodded. "Until you've had a chance to read it and make some initial remarks, yes."

"Shit." I looked at my watch. It was still very early. "You'd better send a message to Melody that...oh fuck." I pushed my glasses to the top of my head. "Mike Greene's over there at the house filling in Melody about my ex-girlfriend. The one who just happened to show up and that I didn't know was a witch."

"Awkward, I guess, but why is that a big deal?"

I saw Harry give me a look that indicated he really didn't understand. It was at that point that I was glad it was Harry there instead of some other Auror, because Harry and I were friends. He'd understand. "Harry, she's the one who completely broke my heart. She was the first woman I ever thought I could spend the rest of my life with. I know I should be reading this..." I held up the book "...but I gotta tell someone because it's all to fucking weird. Have a seat."

"Hank, as much as I'm interested in your story, and I am, we're here for a reason. How about when we finish this I'll buy you a pint or two at The Leaky and you can tell me all about it."

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're right." I opened the manuscript. "Ok, you totally bullshit story, let's see what you've got for us this time."

-ooo-

_Harry Potter strode into Gringotts, his robe billowing out behind him, purpose etched on his face. He was determined to right the wrongs that still existed in the Wizarding world, but specifically the wrongs done to him and his family. Every goblin eye was focused on him as he made his way through the throngs, and each ear was turned to hear what the savior of all magical beings had to say._

"_I wish to see the will of Sirius Black!" He pounded a fist upon the table, startling the goblins._

_A lone goblin hurried away as the others tried to calm the Head Auror, but to no avail. His green orbs flashed behind gold-rimmed glasses. Their words held no sway as he stood, resolute, determined. The quiet descended like a fog, covering everything, as no living thing dared to move. _

"_Head Auror Potter?" A gnarled, ancient goblin stood in the doorway, a golden chain around his neck as well as a jewel-encrusted diadem on his forehead indicating his office. "I am Head Goblin Krobby. Please follow me." _

_Harry Potter followed the Head Goblin, who was soon flanked by four large goblins in armor who wielded pikes with razor sharp points. They wound their way through many hallways, up staircases, until they reached the ornate meeting room. The walls were covered with tapestries depicting goblins in battle, victorious goblins that stood upon the corpses of wizards. Harry Potter did not flinch when he saw the tapestries, it only made him more sure of his course. _

_After Head Goblin Krobby sat down Harry remained standing. "I, Harry Potter, Head Auror, Defender of Magic, Vanquisher of Voldemort, Order of Merlin First Class Recipient, Member of the Wizangamot, Lord of the Moste Ancient House of Potter and heir of Sirius Orion Black, formally request to see the last will and testament of Sirius Orion Black. I claim this right as sole heir and under the Goblin Law of Krisnach!"_

_A gasp escaped from every goblin throat; no wizard had invoked the Law of Krisnach in over a century!_

_Head Goblin Krobby leaned forward in shock, his voice trembling with rage. "How do you know the Law of Krisnach?"_

"_I know many things, Head Goblin Krobby." Harry Potter smiled; he would have to thank Hermione for her research and if things went he anticipated he knew the perfect reward. "My patience is not limitless. Under the Law you must accede to my request immediately. You know the penalties if this is not carried out within the proscribed limits."_

_Sweat broke out on Head Goblin Krobby's forehead, causing the diamond, ruby and emerald encrusted diadem of his office to slip slightly. He knew that if Harry Potter's requests were not carried out immediately he could not only lose his head but the entirety of all the goblin gold in Gringotts! Instead of showing his fear he simply nodded. "So mote it be."_

_Upon hearing those words a goblin in a red velvet robe walked forward and handed a scroll of parchment to Head Goblin Krobby. Head Goblin Krobby broke the seal on the scroll and unrolled it. With a smile he showed Harry Potter his sharpened teeth. _

"_The last will and testament of Sirius Orion Black was read for you previously. Why do you wish to read it again, Head Auror Potter? Was your inheritance not sufficient?"_

_A smile curled at Harry Potter's lips. "I believe there is a part of the will that was omitted. A part that has made Gringotts and Goblin Nation gold that DOES NOT BELONG TO THEM!" He pounded his fist upon the table, causing the gold and silver table settings to shake upon the vehement strike. He slowly opened his fist, fingers curling away, palm upward. "I will not draw a weapon in the presence of the Head Goblin, but I request that one of your subordinates pierce my flesh to let my blood flow upon the last page of the will." This was his masterstroke; he knew that if he would have bared a blade in the presence of the goblins that it was tantamount to declaring war upon Goblin Nation. Instead, by asking them to do it, he symbolically put himself at their mercy, an act they would not fail to realize and understand what it meant. If events unfolded as Luna Lovegood had foreseen, the events taking place in the ornate meeting room would establish him as the Wizard Above All Wizards in the eye of Goblin Nation._

_The red robed goblin looked nervously at Head Goblin Krobby, and upon receiving the affirmative nod from the Head Goblin it walked forward slowly over to where Harry Potter still stood. It took a small, exquisitely detailed silver knife from it's red robes and delicately pricked Harry Potter's finger. The Head Goblin picked up the parchment, walked over to Harry Potter and placed the will upon the table._

_Harry Potter took his finger and let three drops of blood splash upon the parchment. The moment the first drop of blood struck the parchment writing began to appear, large, bold words from a confident hand. Once the words had fully formed Harry Potter picked up the parchment._

"_I will read these words aloud so that all may know. 'BY RIGHT OF BLOOD, AND BY MY RIGHT AS THE RIGHTFUL HEIR, I HEREBY DECLARE THAT HARRY JAMES POTTER IS THE RIGHT AND JUST BARON OF THE MOSTE ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK. HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOW ENDOWED WITH ALL RIGHTS AND PRIVLEGES OF THE BARONY AND THE OWNERSHIP OF ANY AND ALL PROPERTIES, HOLDINGS, INCOMES, VAULTS AND POSSESSIONS NOW HELD IN TRUST BY GRINGOTTS AND GOBLIN NATION UNTIL CLAIMED BY HARRY JAMES POTTER. HARRY, I LOVE YOU LIKE A SON AND I KNOW YOU WILL DO THIS OLD MAURADER PROUD. YOU'LL BE A GREAT BARON BLACK, CUB. SIGNED THIS DAY UNDER WITNESS OF GRINGOTTS REPRESENTATIVE GRIPHOOK, SIRIUS ORION BLACK, BARON BLACK.' Harry Potter glared at Head Goblin Krobby. "I believe I have been wronged and seek redress."_

_Head Goblin Krobby sank in his chair, as he knew that Harry Potter, if he knew of the Law of Krisnach, would also know the laws that pertained to a Goblin that willingly defaulted on a sacred agreement such as a last will and testament. He knew that the next few moments would not only determine his fate, but that of Gringotts and Goblin Nation. He bowed low before Harry Potter, causing all goblins in attendance to gasp, as Head Goblin Krobby had not bowed to any living thing in the last two hundred years. _

"_Lord Potter, let me be the first to acknowledge you as Lord Baron Potter-Black. I have to words to adequately apologize for an indiscretion so foul. I, and Goblin Nation, are at your mercy. What are your demands?"_

_Harry Potter knew that he had them, and he knew what he would ask. "Head Goblin Krobby, rise, it is not fitting for one of such a station as yours to prostrate themselves to any living thing." The goblins gasped again, as they did not expect such benevolence from a wizard, least of all one that been wronged and knew of the Law of Krisnach. "I am willing to overlook such an egregious error in the desire to strengthen the bonds between Goblin Nation and the Moste Ancient Houses of Potter and Black. I will give you my requests to cement this bond and ask that they be carried out immediately."_

_Not only did the Head Goblin nod in agreement but all goblins present did so as well, such was the command of Lord Baron Potter-Black. _

_Harry Potter sat down, causing all the goblins to exhale. "I will require all properties, holdings, incomes, vaults and documents for the Moste Ancient House of Black to be transferred to me immediately. In the goal of further cementing our bonds I hereby relinquish any and all rights to any and all profits made on the previously detailed items from the time of Baron Sirius Orion Black's death until the present time."_

_Upon hearing the words from Lord Baron Potter-Black's lips Head Goblin Krobby smiled broadly. He knew that Lord Baron Potter-Black was being most generous._

"_Furthermore..." Harry Potter smiled. "...I request that the Black ring, the Baronial ring, be presented immediately. I wish it to be known that I am now Lord Baron Potter-Black."_

_A small goblin ran forward and gave Lord Baron Potter-Black a small box. Inside was the Black Baronial ring. Harry put it on and immediately felt a surge of magic flood through him. _

"_Lord Baron Potter-Black, if I may..." the Head Goblin smiled "...as you have taken possession of the ring you have activated a contract that was written many, many years ago. A marriage contract. Unfortunately the family that signed the contract with the Moste Ancient House of Black, unfortunately they have died out. The contract is clear, though, you must marry to continue the Black family line."_

"_I am already married to Lady Ginevra Potter." Harry Potter smiled at the Head Goblin because he already knew all of the details. Hermione had prepared him well, and the moment of her reward was almost at hand._

"_And she is a most lovely Lady Potter, Lord Baron." Head Goblin Krobby smiled his sharp smile yet again. "But the laws regarding Moste Ancient Houses is not as...restrictive as those for commoners. It is not only allowed, but expected, that you will take another wife."_

"_I will take Hermione Jean Granger, daughter of Daniel and Emma Granger, as Baroness Black."_

_Head Goblin Krobby struck his gold and jewel-encrusted scepter of office on the table. "So mote it be." His expression changed to a worried look as a young goblin whispered something in his ear. "Lord Baron Potter-Black, I am afraid I have ill news so soon for you. Apparently your holdings in United American Magic of States are being held by a group called the Wizarding Liberation Front. A man named Haddingspot, my sources say. Goblin Nation stands ready to assist you in retrieving these assets. Will you accept our offer?"_

_Harry Potter, Lord Baron Potter-Black reached forward and grasped Head Goblin Krobby's hand. "I accept your offer with the Oath of Gnishblick!"_

-ooo-

The sun came in through the windows as Harry sat on the fraying sofa, shoes off, with a cup of tea. I put the manuscript down and shook my head.

"I can't read any more. Holy shit, Harry. What a load of crap! I can't believe this...shit. This is even worse than the other ones." I looked at him and saw him roll his eyes. "I mean, with the other ones they were slightly grounded in reality, you know, all the stuff you did when you were a kid, all the hell you an' Ron an' Hermione went through, but this? I mean, you aren't really a lord and a baron, are you?"

"No, Hank, I'm not." Harry stood up, walked into the kitchen and put his cup and saucer in the sink. "People want to think that Sirius had a ton of money and properties, that being a Black made him rich. He wasn't. Really, it's like the Muggle aristocracy, most of what he had was tied up in the house. There was some gold, but not like people imagine." He ducked his head for a moment then looked at me, somewhat embarrassed. "The Potter's were actually wealthier than the Blacks. I did inherit quite a bit from them, but it didn't make up for things. It's made things easier, yes, but..."

I let the words trail away without saying anything, as I knew what he meant. He would have given up all the gold in his vaults to have had his parents still be alive. I decided to switch topics immediately. "So the WLF made an entrance in the book, that's odd, right?"

"Yes." His eyes met mine. "That's the part that tipped off the AAB that something was different. The Auror Department knew that Haddingspot, the man mentioned, was involved with the WLF but we hadn't made that public. Merlin knows who let that out." He took a look at the clock. "You know, Hank, maybe we should head back. I don't think we'll finish this today, even if you are a fast reader."

"Thanks." I sat back in the chair and pushed my glasses to the top of my head. "Maybe I can come into the Ministry and use my old office to read this. What's the priority on this? I mean, you can get other people to read this that have clearance. It's March, I'm still teaching Muggle Studies. Classes aren't over, hell, they aren't even close to being over. I'm just happy this is a weekend or else I'd have to get clearance from Titus."

"I'm sure Headmaster Titus would spare you for a bit, but you do have a point, Hank." Harry leaned back against the sink. "We'll get people to read it but since you found the original Adventure Series books in New Orleans, and you'd read them all, we thought you were the best person for this job. Except for that time Ron and I spent with you at Hogwarts during the time when the Muggle Studies professors were missing I can't say that I've read a word of them."

"Well, I don't blame you. They suck." I stood up to stretch and knocked my Auror robe off the back of the kitchen chair. When I picked it up I noticed something had fallen out of one of the pockets. "Holy shit, I left a pack of smokes in here!"

Harry shook his head. "I thought you gave that up?"

"I did." I opened the pack and saw four cigarettes in there. "I promised Mel that I'd quit before Virginia was born." I fished a cigarette out and found a pack of matches stuck in the wrapping of the cigarette box. After quickly lighting a cigarette I savored the taste, even if the tobacco was stale as hell. "Don't say a word, Harry. I did promise her I'd quit before Virginia was born, and I did. Didn't say anything about _after_, mind you."

-ooo-

Harry dropped me off outside Colony House in the middle of one of the usual bouts of Scottish sunshine; in other words, rain. I made my way in through the back door and hoped that Melody and the kids would be asleep, but I wasn't that lucky. Besides, it was the late afternoon and Lavinia was there. We'd been lucky enough that she was up-to-date on her homework so Headmaster Titus gave us some leniency on letting her come home to help watch the kids since I had to accompany Melody to the charity thing. With her at the house, and with all the excitement of seeing my ex-girlfriend there, not to mention Mike's visit with her, I had a feeling she would be up and full of questions. She was, but I should have guessed the first question out of her mouth when she saw me.

"Hank! Have you been smoking?" She moved Virginia over to her other hip and leaned in close. "You have. Hank, you promised..."

Shit. I was in trouble.

"Yeah, I had a couple. I found them in my Auror robes. Tasted horrible." She didn't buy it. "Ok, it's been pretty stressful, ok? I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I took off my Auror robe and hung it by the door. "Where's Lavinia?"

"Downstairs with Hieronymus." She walked over, pulled my Auror robe off of the hook and dropped it on the kitchen floor. "And you're not hanging this smelly thing in the house. Take it to the shed or have Nonky clean if for you. Merlin, Hank, you promised."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'll take the late night shift with Virginia, ok?" It wasn't going well so I decided to change tactics. "She can't hear us, right?"

"Here." She handed me Virginia and took out her wand. With a quick wave a faint light enveloped the door leading downstairs. "She can't hear us now. What happened?"

I stood and swayed back and forth with Virginia, keeping her calm, and told her everything that had happened. She laughed when I told her my alias, as I'd shown her Star Wars numerous times. Instead of Ben Kenobi she told me I should have picked an Ewok name, which she thought was funny as she loved the Ewoks best in the whole Star Wars movie series, something she knew irritated me slightly. When I told her the part that I'd read aloud to Harry, the whole dance with the goblins about laws and wills and secret knowledge she laughed, but when I told her about him making Hermione Lady Black she got a disgusted look on her face.

"What is with some people? I mean, honestly, Hank? Why the interest? Why does everyone want to put Harry and Hermione together?"

"Rita Skeeter, for one." I walked into the living room and sat down in the rocking chair. Virginia was almost asleep. "Remember what Hermione told us, that Skeeter wrote all that shit about Harry and Hermione during the Tri-Wizard tournament? And that picture in The Prophet of them hugging before the first thing, the thing with the dragon? They're friends, they went through all that shit with Voldemort along with Ron, and people keep trying to say that they're together, even though they're both very happily married. Well, Harry and Ginny are, Ron and Hermione I guess it depends on the day..."

"Hank, you know that's how they are. They like to..."

"I know, I'm just pulling your chain." I looked down at my daughter, asleep and peaceful. "I wish I didn't have to go back. At least you'll have Nonky here. Can't believe you talked both him and Titus into letting him stay here instead of Hogwarts."

She smiled mischievously. "I can be rather persuasive, you know. Besides, Nonky dotes on the children. It was so hard to see him head back when your paternity leave was finished." She glanced over to where the Auror robe sat in heap on the floor. "Hank, it isn't starting again, is it? You're not going to go running off with your guns again, are you? You have two children now. You can't do that anymore."

I nodded. "I know. This is just research, Mel. I'm just reading a book and giving them a report. This one's different than the other ones, not only because it's after Voldemort but the style's different, like it's somebody else that's writing it."

She didn't say anything but smiled at me. "Aren't you going to ask me about the stories Mike told me?"

"Oh shit."

"Hank! Little ears!"

"Mel, she's a baby. I'm sure a few cuss words isn't going to scar her permanently. So what'd he say?"

"Not too much, actually. We only spoke for a few moments before Cho Flooed and asked if everything was ok. He did say that she really messed you up, though. You were quite the mess, according to him. He also said that he had some things that you wanted him to throw away back then but he kept them, just in case you wanted them back. Easter holiday is coming soon so I invited the Greene's for Easter dinner. We'll have a little show and tell session then."

"Oh goddamnit, Mike you sorry sonofabitch, I'm gonna..."

"Hank!" She stood up and walked over to the rocking chair, stood behind me and put her arms over the back and caressed Virginia's head. As she touched the fine brown hair of our daughter she put her head against mine. "Hank, in a way I'm glad she broke up with you, because if she hadn't you wouldn't be here now and we wouldn't have two beautiful children."

I felt a large, contented sigh escape. "What in the world did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Merlin knows, Hank. Merlin knows."


	3. For Your Eyes Only

**Chapter 3: For Your Eyes Only**

It was when I woke up from my nap when things got weird. I usually don't nap much, more of a night-owl, but having kids, especially a new one, made sleeping kind of a luxury. Add into that the trip at o'dark-thirty with Harry to the UMS, and I was tired, so a nap was in order. When I woke up I was disoriented, mostly because I was in an odd position in my office, lying down on a sofa. I don't have a sofa in my office, so I figured Melody must have conjured one for me as the last thing I remembered was sitting at my desk in my office, listening to music and reading. Instead of that, the light coming through the window was dying, it was almost night-time and I heard laughing female voices from my living room. One was Melody, one was Lavinia, I was pretty sure one was Ginny Potter and the other was...

"Holy shit." I sat up quickly, looked around for my glasses and picked them up off of the desk at the exact moment the sofa changed from a sofa back into the little end table and the legs of aforementioned end table refused to hold my weight. I sank into the floor with the debris and started shaking my hand, which was bleeding. "Goddamnit! Ow!"

"Hank? Are you up?" Melody's muffled voice came from the other room and then footsteps. After the door opened I saw her look at me and make a 'whoops, sorry' face. "Oh dear, I didn't think...come here, let's fix that."

I stumbled to my feet and didn't say a word when she waved on the lights in the office. She knew I didn't like magic in there, too much fucked with the laptop something fierce, but with everything spinning through my head I just really didn't care. She did a quick '_Episkey_' on my hand, healing up the cut and forcing a splinter out, but I only was really half-aware.

"Mel? Is that..."

She nodded. "Yes, Hank. Rowan Wright is in the living room along with Ginny and Hannah. Don't worry, we've been talking about the kids and Witch Weekly."

"Great." I listened but only heard soft murmuring from the other room. "And now it's gonna get awkward."

"Mmmm..." Melody shrugged. "I don't think so, Hank. She got a copy of _Useless_ after the party and stayed up reading it. I think you'll be fine." She glanced over at the end table and with another wave of her wand fixed it up good as new. "I'll give you a moment. You don't have long, you and Lavinia have to be back to Hogwarts very soon, you know." She smiled at me and then gave me a quick kiss. "Remember who you are now, Hank. You aren't the boy who dated her, you're the man who married me..."

"Thanks, love." I gave her a hug. "Ok, will do. I'll be out in a sec."

Once she left I went over to the mirror, flattened my hair a little and began rubbing my face to get the wrinkles out of it from where I slept on the conjured sofa pillow.

"Hank? Who is this person in your house?" Minerva McGonagall gave me a look like I'd done something to merit detention in her class from her portrait alongside the mirror. "Is it one of my former students?"

"Nope." I shook my head and adjusted my glasses. "An old girlfriend of mine. I didn't know she was a witch when we dated and...I really thought back then she was the one."

"Yes...well, we end up where we're supposed to with who we're supposed to eventually." She nodded knowingly. "You and Melody..."

"I know, I know. And you sound like Dumbledore with all the 'end up where we're supposed to' stuff. But that's not always the case, you know. I remember you telling me about an American right before World War Two..."

"Hmph." She pursed her lips and gathered her robe around her neck. "I believe your guest is waiting, Hank. Be polite."

"You always avoid that subject, Minerva." I leaned over and checked my face; the lines were faded enough that I didn't feel like I was a human map of the tube.

After a deep breath I headed toward the door, my stomach in my throat. When I opened the door it didn't help; there, on the sofa, next to each other looking at a book of photographs was my wife and my ex-girlfriend. From out of the blue I had the thought that I finally realized what Hermione Weasley went through when Lavender was around Ron. Lavinia sat on the floor playing with Hieronymus while Ginny stood and swayed holding her goddaughter Virginia.

"Hello, Hank." Hannah Longbottom's voice came from the kitchen. "I owled Neville that you and Lavinia might be late, he said not to worry."

"Thanks." I went over and sat in my chair. "So, for the love of God, please tell me those aren't pictures of..."

"Hank..." Melody stuck out her bottom lip slightly. "You were so cute and skinny. And that hair..."

"Oh fuck." I sighed and sat back in my chair. "Thanks. Thanks a lot Christine...or is it Rowan?"

She smiled and pushed her blonde hair behind her ear. "I don't mind, Hank. It's been years." She moved her legs towards me and put her hands together. "Listen...I think you know why I had to break things off, especially now. I'm sorry you were so surprised the other night...I know I was. I guess I never put things together, never thought that the Hank I knew was a real Professor at Hogwarts, of all places. It seems you've done quite well, if your books are any indication."

"Thanks." I nodded. "Yeah, I guess I get it now, the secrecy stuff." My giant grey cat Virgil decided to take that moment to make an entrance, walked over and jumped up into my lap, demanding attention. I petted him for a bit and didn't say anything.

Ginny decided to break the awkward silence. "Hank, Rowan has agreed to take a family photo for us. Mum's been after us for a while for a new one."

"I offered the same for Melody, Hank." Christine gave me an embarrassed smile. "If that's ok with you."

"Sure. Fine with me." I nodded, pretending this wasn't beyond weird. The mention of Molly Weasley made me think of Hermione again, and I thought that if Hermione could manage with Lavender I could manage with Christine. Rowan. Christine. Whatever. "It'd have to be on Easter holiday, though. I'll be at Hogwarts until then."

"Of course." Christine agreed quickly. "Of course." She stood up quickly. "Well, I know you have to leave soon, and I must be going as well. I have an appointment in Milan soon, fashion week."

That was the cue for everybody to stand up and start the goodbyes. As the ladies promised to owl each other to arrange things I stood there and watched as my past and present came together in a weird confluence. When it came time for my turn Christine and I stood in front of each other and for a moment I was back in that little bar she used to work at, right next to the jukebox, when she told me she was leaving for good, but instead we were in my house, Colony House, with my wife and my kids. I looked at her, a good look, and I could see that time had been kind to her. She was still a very good looking woman.

"Hank." She pushed her hair behind her ear again. "I read your book. Books, actually, though I haven't been through the genealogy one. Your textbook is much better than the one I had at Houdini. I'm sorry I ended it the way I did, I was young, I didn't know how to handle things." She glanced back at the sofa, at the photo album lying open on the middle cushion. "Those are some photos that I took back then, I thought Melody might want to see what you were like back then. Some of them are Wizarding photos, some are Muggle, but there's nothing bad, I promise."

"Thanks." I nodded.

"You have a wonderful family, Hank. We'll catch up soon, I promise." She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. "Promise."

"Mmm-hmm." Then for some reason, it just came out. "Mike Greene's over here now, too. He married a witch who teaches at Hogwarts. You remember Mike, right?"

A confused look came over her face. "I thought he was going to marry that girl, what was her name?"

"Ah, Cori. He did. She died in a car wreck."

"Oh." Her expression softened. "I'm so sorry." Once again the silence descended until my daughter Virginia's cry broke the silence. Christine glanced at Virginia, in Ginny's arms. "And that's my cue. Good night, Hank."

"Night, Chris."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. After she took the Floo and had disappeared everyone looked at me.

"What?" I moved my head back and forth, looking at the assembled witches. "Screw it, I know I'm heading back to Hogwarts tonight but after that I think I deserve a drink."

-ooo-

Lavinia took the Floo back to Hogwarts since it was late, ending up in Headmaster Titus' office. He was out and about, but had left the Floo open, so after not actually answering any of Lavinia's questions I left her to head down to the Hufflepuff quarters and made my way to my room. I wasn't worried about her; after all, she was a seventh year, almost done with Hogwarts, and had been through enough of all of the stuff that had gone on at Colony House over the years that I didn't have to say 'don't say anything' to her. She knew that. And while it would be somewhat juicy gossip to some of the students I knew I could trust her, as she was my oldest daughter in every way except for biology.

I puttered around my room for a bit, going over the lesson plan for Monday, but my head just wasn't in it as I found myself looking over the third year plan at least five times. I needed to talk to someone and I knew exactly who I needed to see.

Neville was lounging around in a pair of pajama pants, his ancient slippers, an Atlanta Braves t-shirt I gave him for Christmas a few years back and that lurid red and gold-striped dressing gown that just screamed 'I was a Gryffindor' from the rafters. He sat down the magazine, some herbology journal and took out his wand. With a quick wave the windows opened wide.

"How'd you know?" I pulled out my pipe and began packing it.

"Hannah Floo called. Said to expect you. Didn't say why, though."

"Thanks, Nev." I took out my wand and the flame sprouted full and high from the tip, almost singing my nose. I took a step back. "Shit!"

"Here." Neville took his wand off of the arm of the chair and made a small, controlled flame come off of the end.

I leaned down and lit my pipe. "Thanks." I took a few puffs off the pipe and sat down across from him. "Got a rather weird shock, Nev. The woman I dated in college, well, I was finishing up college and she was working at a bar...anyway, the first woman I really loved, the one I wanted to marry? She dumped me and I never saw her again. She fell off the face of the earth. Saw her again the other night and found out she's a witch."

"Bloody hell, Hank."

"Exactly." I took another puff off the pipe. "Gets weirder. She's a famous photographer and Melody wants her to do stuff for Witch Weekly. Oh, and she's taking a family portrait of the Potters soon. Melody's completely cool with this and it freaks me out. I wonder how Hermione does this shit, with Lavender and stuff...I mean..."

"Explains why you almost burned your face off." Neville chuckled. "You can't control your emotions. At least this time you didn't burn any of my plants."

"Come on, man, that was a long time ago and I didn't know I could actually do anything with my wand. Besides, that was Harry and Ron's fault, they were giving me crap because I was a Muggle."

Neville shook his head. "Not exactly, Hank, if I remember right it was because of the WLF. Regardless, mate, Harry sent something to me for you. Your eyes only, I believe."

I started laughing but Neville was oblivious. "For your eyes only...James Bond? Never mind. So what'd Harry send?"

He reached down and picked up a package in brown paper with the Auror seal on top. "This. It literally is for you, Hank. I couldn't open it if I wanted to, Auror seal spell would prevent that."

I took the package and opened it up and, sure enough, it was just what I thought it was, the latest Potter Adventure Series book. "I'm pretty sure I can tell you about this, Nev. Hell, you might be in it. It's the latest one of the..." I watched his face turn angry. "You know these are bullshit. Don't let it bother you."

"Hank, would it bother you if someone wrote horribly inaccurate things about you?"

"You mean, like the bullshit in the papers?" I shrugged. "I'm used to that."

"No." He shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Imagine they wrote about you and Melody, about what happened with you and the WLF and Cassandra Palliurum."

"Fuck. Ok, I get it." I opened the book and flipped through it, looking for the place I left off. "So...you wanna know?"

"No." He sat back in the chair and looked around the room for a minute. "Ok, yes. I do."

"Let me look. Last part I read has something about Harry becoming Lord Baron Potter-Black and picking Hermione to be Baroness Black."

"Merlin's socks..."

"Pants and underwear." I laughed quickly. "Yeah, I know. Let me look."

-ooo-

_The snakeslayer moved silently through the shadows, the Sword of Gryffindor bright and shining at his side, all goblin silver and edged death. He knew that the remnants of the Death Eaters, manifested in the new mythology of the martyr Voldemort, were assembled together in the small shack on the outskirts of the Muggle village. He knew that the element of surprise was on his side, as the anti-Auror defenses they had erected would hold no difficulty for him, for he was Neville Longbottom, The Snakeslayer, defeater of Nagini, but for a quirk of fate he would have been the Boy-Who-Lived. Instead he was Death in a long, black robe._

_As he came closer he heard their voices, how they planned and plotted, how they schemed to have the WLF rise again, have the WLF become more than a regional power, how the WLF would grow and change, enveloping all those discontented witches and wizards, those dissatisfied with the way Muggles and Muggleborn were tolerated and not cleansed from the earth. He heard their plans and felt the dread anger take over, felt the red mist begin to descend. He strode over towards the house, ignoring the Muggle woman walking her dog, ignored her cry of surprise at seeing him. She glanced at his angry orbs and fled, pulling her yelping mutt along in fear. _

_He stopped at the door and raised the sword high above his head. In a quiet voice, full of anger, he softly sword on his life and magic that he would end the threat once and for all. With his wand in his left hand and the sword of Gryffindor in his right he blasted the door open, splintering the wood, covering the plotting evil-doers in a hail of deadly missiles._

"_AAAAH!" A man in a black robe stood up in pain, the cowl of his robe falling away to reveal a bald head covered in tattoos. "It's the Snakeslayer!"_

_It was no contest. Before even one of the assembled could raise their wand he was upon them like the wrath of Merlin, swift, terrible and precise. One, two, three heads fell upon the floor instantly, the sword of Gryffindor singing through the air, it's goblin precision-honed blade wreaking a terrible vengeance, spells issuing forth from his wand with staccato surety, bodies falling like branches from an ill-kept plant. The Snakeslayer was a gardener, clearing the weeds, removing that which was not meant for this place, and as he struck them down he was silent, a grim visage of death and justice, meting out what those who dealt in the darkness deserved._

_Finally all but one were dispatched, a wretch who knelt down in fear. Urine spread through his robe and pooled on the floor in front of him as he looked to the Snakeslayer for mercy. He raised his hands together in succor, pleading for his life._

_The snakeslayer paused the blade of Gryffindor, gleaming and bloody, at the man's neck, almost piercing the flesh. "Do you wish to live?"_

"_Yes! Yes!" The man wildly bobbed his tattooed head in abject fear. "I'll do anything you ask!"_

"_You will never raise a wand for them again." The Snakeslayer brought the Sword of Gryffindor down in a rapid arc, almost too fast for the eye to see. The man's hands, still clasped together, separated at the wrist and fell to the floor, the fingers still clutched together in hope. With another flourish the Snakeslayer sealed the wounds and the man fell to the floor in agony, writhing in his own urine. "But you will tell them that I, Neville Caesar Longbottom, Scion of the House of Longbottom, Order of Merlin First Class and Snakeslayer, will hunt them down. I have shown you mercy so you shall tell them that I will have none. Leave."_

_As the man scrambled to his feet and hurtled out of the door The Snakeslayer stood triumphant, the blood of his enemies running like a river over the floor. He laughed at their feeble attempts and turned on the spot, Disapparating to give his report to Lord Baron Potter-Black. They would raise many firewhiskeys that night._

_-ooo-_

"Oh bloody hell!" Neville stopped pacing and shook his head. "Hank, that's...that's complete and utter rubbish!"

"Yeah." I laughed. "But you have to admit, they make you out to be a real badass."

"But I'm _not_ a badass, Hank!" Neville went over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey, poured a small glass and downed it. "I did kill Nagini, but a lot of people did things...I just happened to be the one. Anybody else would have done it. I...I teach Herbology, for Merlin's sake! I don't lop off heads and hands I...I...I'm tending gardens! Shit, I'm teaching second years about Abyssinian Shrivelfigs tomorrow!"

I knew he was upset because I'd heard Neville say 'shit' about four times since I'd known him. "Like I said, Nev, it's bullshit. We know it's bullshit. And this hasn't gone to press, yet."

"Thank Merlin for small favors."

His tone was sharp so I knew he was really, really angry. I had to change that, as pissing off one of my best friends was not what I had planned for the evening. "The thing with the guys with the tattoos on their heads, that's the Knights of the Wand."

"The who?"

"Knights of the Wand. They're like the WLF, Death Eater wannabe's from the UMS. Ran into them at my brother's wedding. You know, the night when everything went to shit and my parents found out about..."

"Oh." His tone was much calmer. "Right. Yeah. I remember." He turned his head to me. "I take it that's why Harry sent you this book?"

"Yep, shit like that." I closed the book and tossed it on the table. "Plus that section is totally a different style than the last part I read. Either someone is trying on different styles or there's more than one author. I mean, look at how they refer to you as the Snakeslayer. Sometimes they capitalize it, sometimes they don't, sometimes they capitalize the 'The' in front of it, and how they do the same with the sword of Gryffindor. Somebody's a shitty editor, that's for sure. The other sections aren't like that, much cleaner. Then there's the language, Jesus, what purple prose." I saw his look. "An expression about overly descriptive language. I really think somebody different wrote this."

"I'm sure Harry will be interested in that." Neville walked back over and sat down. He tapped his fingers over and over on the arm of the chair as he talked. "You should send him an owl."

"I will." I stood up and took the book off of the table. "But not tonight. Listen, Neville, the only thing connecting you and what's in that book is your name and that you killed a snake with the sword of Gryffindor. That's it. I mean, when's the last time you actually saw the sword, not to mention hold it?"

"I...I don't know."

"Exactly." I walked over and shut the windows. "That guy has nothing else in common but the stuff I said earlier; they're making a pulp fiction superhero movie guy out of that and it's not you. I'd tell you to ignore it but that's just...I couldn't do it. Tell you what, if you want, I'll look through and let you know if there's anything else. You don't have to hear it or read it, ok?" After he nodded I sighed in relief. "I'm sorry, Nev. Didn't mean to do that."

"Yeah." He cocked his head in my direction. "Your ex-girlfriend is much more interesting."

"I guess."

"Not feeling as upset anymore, Hank?"

I shifted the book, manuscript, whatever the fuck it's called over to my other hand and realized I'd been really stupid. I was just dealing with that, and Christine had been really nice, not to mention that Melody had handled things better than I ever expected, and to be honest better than I would if the shoe was on the other foot. Neville had shit like the Potter Adventure Series spewed out to deal with..and anytime the whole 'Snakeslayer' thing was brought up, either in the shitty book series or occasionally in the papers, anytime that happened Neville was somewhat withdrawn after that. I was an idiot, a selfish, self-absorbed idiot.

"No, I'm not. Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Oh, and Hank? You know my middle name's not Caesar. It's Francis."

"Yeah. I remember. Night."

After I left Neville's room and headed down to mine I realized that I would not be reading anymore of that damned book to him. At anytime.

-ooo-

The next two weeks settled into the normal routine. I'd teach during the day, do the whole Hufflepuff Head of House stuff, spend the weekends with Melody and the kids and during the weekday evenings I'd read and send Harry reports on the Potter Adventure Series manuscript. I didn't get anything back from him but quick 'Thanks' owls, so I knew he was busy.

Cho Greene was obviously the Charms professor for a reason because she charmed me into telling her a few things about my ex-girlfriend. It didn't help that she could ask Mike. She also let it slip that Mike was bringing a few mementos over from those days when they visited at Easter. I told her to tell him that I had an equal amount of blackmail material, but she just laughed and said they didn't have any secrets. I didn't think Melody and I did, either, but then again I didn't think I'd need to go into excruciating detail about a romance that died before I started grad school.

One of the interesting things I found out was that Harry had done something to the manuscript so that I was the only one who could read it for what it was; everyone else saw it as a copy of _My Wand is Useless_, my first book, and asked me why I was working on it again. Well, Petal Farnsworth, the Defense instructor, asked me that, anyway. The other person who mentioned it was Louise Libreth, one of my third year Slytherin students. I left it on the desk in the classroom while I went to see about one of the fifth year Hufflepuffs who was hurt at Quidditch practice and in an act of brown-nosing Louise brought it to me at dinner that night.

Mostly, though, I just taught Muggle Studies. Oh, and filled up the swearing book. Dammit. Eventually, though, the calendar turned so that Easter holiday was right upon us, causing everyone, students and staff alike, to look forward to spending time away from Hogwarts. Everyone except me, though. Oh sure, I wanted to spend time with my wife and kids. That's a given. What I wasn't looking forward to was the box of surprises that Mike Greene was going to bring.

Before I knew it I was walking through Hogsmeade with Lavinia on the way to Stintborough and Colony House. She was usually quite talkative, but this time she was rather quiet. My attempts at conversation didn't go far so instead of continuing to walk I nudged her.

"Come on, let's stop in and get something for Melody." I pointed towards The Magic Neep. "We need to make sure she's got everything."

"Sure." She shrugged and followed me into the grocery store.

I grabbed a basket and we walked through the aisles, occasionally picking something off the shelf. "Vin, are you ok?" I put down the sack of potatoes. "Come on, I know you. Something's up. What's going on?"

"Willy an' me..." She sighed. "I..."

"It's ok, Lavinia. I get it." I put my arm around her. "I'm sorry. Is this a fight or..."

"He wants to...he wants to go to Muggle university, Hank."

I heard the sadness in her voice but I didn't get it. "Um, ok? So what's the problem?"

"In Norway!" She turned to me and shook her head. "Norway! They don't even speak English!"

"I'm pretty sure they do speak English there, but probably not as a first language..."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not the point, Hank. I'm starting the daycare when I leave. I already have a spot picked out an' some investors and Melody and Lane have helped and Tinney too but I thought we'd be together and if he goes over there he'll meet one of _those_ Norwegian women and they all look like models..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold on, there." I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Has he been accepted yet?"

"No..."

"Does he even have the Muggle documentation yet? He'll need transcripts and stuff."

"I don't think so..."

"Vin, it's March. Their term probably starts in September or maybe August, so if he doesn't have a place yet he probably won't. We haven't had the career talk yet, that's after Easter, so I'll talk to him, ok?"

She picked up the potatoes and put them in the basket. "Ok. Thanks. And we do need more potatoes. We always run out."

As she headed down the aisle, browsing at items I took a deep breath. Virginia wasn't even a year old and I was already afraid of conversations just like the one I had, in The Magic Neep, looking at potatoes. It was also at that moment that I realized that the feelings I had once upon a time for Christine Rowan weren't that much different along the timeline of adulthood than Lavinia and Willy Smythe. I was much older now, hopefully more mature, and suddenly Easter with its trip down memory lane thanks to Mike's box of mementos didn't seem so bad.


	4. Time Makes Beggars

**Chapter 4: Time Makes Beggars**

It had the makings of a horribly embarrassing Easter holiday. I even told myself that in the bathroom mirror a I heard noises from outside telling me that everybody was up except for me; Hieronymus, being two, was being very two and telling Melody 'no' in a very loud voice, probably because of her insistence that he be fed normal food instead of just bacon. I swear the kid subsisted on bacon sandwiches as well as peanut butter sandwiches, much to my delight and my wife's dismay. Virginia was crying but I heard Lavinia talking to her, which usually fixed things but it seemed like she was bent on a full-on wail. Not only was my house in an uproar but later that day Mike and Cho would stop by with Jack, who had turned one not too long ago, and it would be a full out nappie-fest. I don't know how Molly and Arthur did it. Probably liberal amount of alcohol. Merlin knows I'd need those to make it through whatever Mike brought over in his box of mementos.

To be honest the pictures that Christine had left for Melody weren't that bad; most of them were of me and Mike goofing off with our painfully eighties haircuts and clothing, but there were a few of just me and Christine. Thankfully nothing that was too private, and for one I was glad that the eighties didn't have many instant options except Polaroid cameras. Nobody took horribly incriminating pictures like they can with mobile phones and digital cameras. Unless you had a darkroom back then nobody could develop anything risqué because the 2 Hour Photo place wouldn't do it. And then I thought that Christine _did_ have a darkroom back then, as she made one in her little shitty apartment. _Fuck_.

"Hank! A little help?" Melody's voice came muffled, but loud, through the door.

"There in a minute." I tossed the towel into the bathroom, completely missing the hook on the back of the door but I'd get it later; more important was whatever Melody needed. And when I got there, well, it was pretty important, as Hieronymus clung to her leg and she had Virginia in one arm, her wand in the other, trying to clean up Virginia as she had a rather explosive nappy. "Wow, you weren't kidding." I leaned down and pulled Hieronymus from Melody's leg, wailing and kicking. "Come on, little man, let your mom fix your sister's butt."

I took him into my office, still wailing, and even after I put on music he didn't calm down. Not knowing what else to do I picked him up and started walking around the room, and when we walked past the portrait of Minerva McGonagall he stopped wailing and reached for the painting. I stopped, walked back and stood in front of Minerva.

"I take it someone is not having a good morning." She gave me an understated smile, mostly for my benefit.

"Oh yeah." I adjusted Hieronymus in my arms. "Say hello, Hieronymus."

"H'lo." He waved at the former Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Story?"

"Sorry, Minerva." I switched arms so Hieronymus could be near the painting and drug a chair with my other hand in short, scraping bursts so I could sit with him. "This would be so much easier with magic." I saw her look. "The chair, moving the chair, that's what I meant."

"If you would have said something about magic quieting the boy I would have told Melody, but I know you better than that, Hank." She smiled and then looked at Hieronymus, and he clapped his hands when Minerva's tabby cat jumped up on her lap. "So, young Hieronymus, would you like to hear 'Babbitty Rabbitty' again?"

I sat there and listened with my son as Minerva told the story again, one of his favorites, and to be honest I sort of lost track of time. It was only later, when I heard the door open and saw my wife, fully dressed and presentable, that I realized we had been in there for a long time, and that Minerva had moved on from Babbitty Rabbitty to other stories.

Melody leaned down and kissed my bald spot. "You two look so sweet there, listening to Minerva. I hate to interrupt, but Mike and Cho are here, and Mike's got something for you."

"It better be my Cure albums." I looked down to Hieronymus and realized he was almost asleep. "Is it his nap time? Don't want to get him off schedule."

"It's fine, Hank." Melody picked him up gently from my lap and he snuggled into her. "Thank you, Minerva. They're putting Jack down now, so go see Mike. He seemed rather sad."

I returned the chair to its rightful place, this time without a ton of scraping and noise, and walked into the living room, where Mike sat with a box on the floor next to his feet. Melody was right; he did look rather sad.

"Mike, what's wrong?" I went over and sat across from him. "Its Easter, can't be that bad."

He gave me a weak smile. "Got this the other day when I was over at the States. Had an audition, some cop show, but that's not important. Stopped over to see your parents as always, and it came for you in the mail. Guess they didn't have your new address." He took a deep breath. "Hank, Professor Eittel passed away."

"What? Oh shit. No." I sat back in the chair and took off my glasses. "When? How?"

"Died in his sleep. He had some health problems." He leaned down, picked up the box and handed it to me. "That's from his estate. His sister in Oregon didn't know where to send it, I guess, and the last address of yours that Eittel had must have been your folks'. They're having a remembrance ceremony next week."

"Hank?" Melody sat next to me. "Was this one of your former professors?"

"Yeah, and more." I turned to her and felt the swell begin in my chest, that swell that happens when emotions flood a body. "He was my advisor when I became an English major. More than that, though, he was a mentor. Lived in this huge, ramshackle house he'd done up painted lady style, all crazy colors, and with a ton of greenery. Yard was maybe as big as our living room all put together." I looked over to Mike. "Remember the parties?"

Mike nodded and a genuine smile crossed his face. "Oh yeah. That's where we learned to drink, remember? Especially that year we rented the house behind his." He turned to Cho. "We were broke as hell and I think he took pity on us, feeding us for most of the summer." he turned back to me. "Remember when Cori convinced him to put on that little thing, what'd she call it, an Intimate Film Festival? Got a lot of people looking for the wrong kind of movies. Instead of pornos 'intimate' meant a small group of people. The three frat guys were really pissed off when they found out we were watching Polish films."

I laughed. "Totally. What did that one meathead say as he left? Something like he was there for sex, not subtitles. Eittel told him that even though he was gay the dude wasn't his type. Hilarious." I felt a wave of fear come over me. "What about Lindell? Does he get to keep the house?" I turned to Melody. "Lindell was Eittel's partner. They got together about a year after I finished my undergraduate degree."

"Don't know." Mike shrugged. "You can ask him at the ceremony. You're going, right?"

"Of course. Yeah, I'm going." I turned to Melody. "Sorry, I've got to do this. If you don't want to go, I understand. But this is something I've got to do."

"I understand, Hank. I understand." She put her hand on mine. "Do you want to open the box? You don't have to."

"Oh yeah, that." I picked up the box and saw my name in Eittel's distinctive writing. I'd seen enough of his comments on my papers, poems and essays over the years that it was as if I was back at college. After a deep breath I opened the box to find a letter on top with my full name printed out. He always loved to give me crap about my full name, saying my mother gave me all those names for a reason and to not use them would be a disservice to mom. I slid open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

_Dear Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd,_

_My good friend, I am afraid that these last few years have not been kind to me. Cancer does not care that I still have articles left to write, books that I have put off reading for far too many years, films yet unseen. But enough about my tenuous grasp on this mortal coil, I have a confession for you._

_Your acceptance of me as a professor, as a friend, as your advisor meant much, but I kept something from you for years, and then, when I found we inhabit the same secret world, I could not find the time to pick up a pen or dash off an email, for which I am profoundly sorry. You see, Henry, I know of your world. My sister Linda is a witch. She attended Houdini, married a wizard named Harvey and had children that have also attended Houdini. It was only while assisting my nephew with his homework, a Muggle Studies assignment, that I realized who exactly wrote his textbook. You can imagine my surprise, finding out that one of my best students (and yes, you were one of my best students, if not the most diligent) was not only writing textbooks but teaching at such an illustrious school as Hogwarts! _

_I should have dashed off a letter to you then and there, but family obligations, not to mention academic obligations, kept me from that letter. I started it several times, and I believe there are a few half-hearted drafts that remain in my possession, but Lindell will take care of those for me. Time makes beggars of us all._

_I know your struggles to become a professor in this, my non-magical world, but I ask you this; isn't all of the world magical? Reading up on you it has become apparent that you are familiar with the magic of the everyday, as you have a son. Hieronymus is a fine name, and enough that you hopefully didn't saddle the poor boy with two more besides Boyd. Look at your son and tell me if you do not see the magic in this world, whether the lad ever waves a wand or, like me, must sit on the sidelines as a sibling enters that world. _

_But I do not harbor any anger, any ill feelings for not being magical. As I said, there is magic all around us. The shadows and light through the trees on a warm summer's night, the prose of our favorite authors, the music of Puccini, examine that and tell me if there is no magic in the Muggle world. I have lived a life full of magic, the magic of friends such as you, Mike Greene and his Cori. I look forward to seeing Cori again, to hear her musical laughter, listen as she convinces me to embark on some haphazardly conceived party or plan. And I will see you someday as well, and then, when all the cares of this world have passed, we can once again sit down and discuss literature, life, and you can tell me the full story of what you wrote. Oh yes, I have read your books. Some of your best writing, much better than those horrible science-fiction things you used to write. You have real emotion in your prose, even if you still use too many parentheticals and are an indifferent user of language's greatest gift, the semi-colon. But someday you can tell me about these things; we will sit under a tree, drinking too many cocktails and smoking too many cigarettes, and it will not matter. For we will have time, just as you have one of the most precious gifts, the most magical gift anyone could ever have. Time. I have had that time with Lindell, and he is truly the most magical gift I could have every received. Please write to him, as I have left him instructions regarding a gift to you. And before you refuse, as you always do, think of this as a request from your old advisor._

_And let me advise you one last time, before I go. I know I shan't need to go into detail, because you grasp it naturally; remember the affect you have on your students. My experience has shown that even the student that did not speak much in class, the one who only turned in the papers and listened to the lectures, that student is affected just as much as the ones who participate. I cannot tell you how many students have come to me in the years after their graduation and related how I have impacted their life, and sometimes I remembered them, sometimes not, but it does not matter. You are an educator; that means more than the subject matter, that means you educate them on all manner of things._

_I wish that we had more time, that I would have taken the time to write to you before now, but I soon go to shuffle off to the next great adventure. _

_Keep reading. Keep learning. Keep living._

_Robert_

I was in tears by the time I finished the letter. Melody had her arm linked through mine, her head on my shoulder. Mike was wiping away tears as well. I stood up, the letter still in my hand, and went over to the bar, but when I got there it was as if my brain had been erased. "Mike, what was that drink we invented over at Eittel's? You know the one."

Mike's laughter was a welcome sound. "Shit, I don't know. Been years." He walked over to the bar. "Hmmm...let's see."

A few moments and too many different bottles of liquor later we stood with two tumblers full of a weird smelling mixture. I raised my glass. "To Doctor Eittel."

"To Eittel."

We drank at the same time and a few seconds after the alcohol hit my lips I turned to Mike. His face looked like what I guessed mine looked like. "Holy shit, that's awful. How did we drink that crap?"

He shook his head a few times and coughed. "No clue, man, no clue. That's really...God, that tasted like shit."

"Hank?" Melody looked over at me with the box in her hands. "You need to see this."

I walked over and took the box from Melody and there, in the box, were three books. One was My Wand is Useless, another my Muggle Studies textbook and the third was one of the Harry Potter Adventure series books. I pulled out Useless and flipped through it. There, in the margins, was Eittel's inimitable scrawl, commenting on certain passages, correcting my grammar one one section, but mostly they were comments on what had happened. I sat that down and picked up my textbook to see the same things, but this time there were also suggestions for lessons and test questions. That made me laugh. Then, with some curiosity, I picked up the Potter Adventure series book. It was the first one, and after opening up the cover I found a note from Eittel. He wrote that at first he wondered if I wrote the book, but after reading it for a few moments he said there was no way I could have written it as the writing was 'horrendous.' I flipped through the pages some more and, just like the other books, there were notations.

"Hank?" Mike came over and handed me a cup of coffee. "You need this, trust me. Gets the taste out. Everything ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I took the coffee, had a sip and put it down on the table. "Just thinking about things." I put the book down on the table, knowing I'd review Eittel's notes on the Potter Adventure series later. He was always a quick study when it came to a specific author's style. I turned back to everyone. "Sorry, about that. Happy Easter."

The rest of Easter went by in a subdued manner. Mike had thankfully forgotten some of the things he'd promised to bring over, things about Christine. Rowan. Shit, whatever her name was, she'd always be Christine to me. One thing he had remembered was embarrassing.

"Here, man. Found this in my old stack of tapes." He handed me a blank cassette which I'd haphazardly slapped a label on, as it was my writing. "Had to steal this from you, you wouldn't stop listening to the damn thing."

I turned it over in my hands. "Shit! I thought I'd lost this, but you stole it, you bastard." I pulled out the card and took a look at the track listing. "Oh my God, I see why you stole it. I mean, this is the most depressing shit ever. The Cure off of Disintegration, four songs by The Smiths including 'Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want,' that sad Smithereens song, U2's 'All I Want is You'...good grief, and I put Fleetwood Mac's 'Go Your Own Way' on this?"

"Yeah." Mike rolled his eyes. "I remember one drunken night, sitting up on the roof with you, and you kept saying over and over how Lindsay Buckingham was really, really angry. That its one the angriest songs ever or some bullshit. I think that was the night you puked in the bathtub."

"Ugh. Don't remind me." I looked over to see Melody, Cho and Lavinia giving me one of _those_ looks. "Shut up. I was young. My heart was broken. I didn't know how to deal, ok?"

Thankfully the discussion of my inability to deal with a breakup back then was interrupted by an owl at the window. Mike was the closest, so he opened the window, took the letter, gave the owl a treat and shut the window.

"Letter for you, Hank. Auror seal."

"Shit." I took the letter from Mike and opened it up. After a few minutes I knew that Melody wasn't going to be happy. "Uh, Mel? It's from Ron. Looks like I'll be heading over to the States earlier than we thought."

Surprisingly, though, she wasn't angry. "Maybe you'll be able to stay for your professor's ceremony. Just be careful, Hank. Remember, we have little ones now."

"Yeah." I looked over to the stack of books from Eittel. "Remember what's important."

-ooo-

I met Ron the next day at his office at the Ministry, and even though it was on Auror business it was a nice trip. Edith's smiling face met me with a cup of tea, just like old times. After I'd done the inevitable and shown her pictures of the kids Ron finally got irritated and told her that we could catch up later, that I was there for work. She gave him a hard time and left his office, and that's when we got down to business.

"Ok, Hank, the AAB has sent us some intel about that author, and we need your help. We're heading over there, story is you're going to a funeral..."

"What?" I almost dropped my tea. "How'd you know about that?"

"Calm down, Merlin. Think about it, Hank. You think the AAB doesn't search everything sent to you at your parent's house? Be daft if we didn't, or they didn't, but you know what I mean. We didn't read your letter, don't get angry. Besides, his sister is a witch. He knew about the secrecy statues and we can't let that slip out. I'm sorry, but there is a history of people writing letters right before they pass letting out all sorts of secrets. Ministry here's got a file full of 'em, mostly from squibs." His voice changed from the Auror voice to a softer tone. "And I'm sorry, Hank. Reminds me of when McGonagall passed. Even though I wasn't the best student I still miss her." He took a deep breath. "All right, enough about that. We're going over to New Orleans and meeting Malfoy. He's got some information but said you'd be the best person for this. Lavender agreed, apparently. So blame them, not me."

"Great." I sank back in my chair. "Harry going? Wait, are you going?"

"Yep, right on both counts." He nodded. "Hermione's not very happy, and neither's my sister, but it can't be helped. We've already cleared it with Titus."

"How long is this...thing?" I pushed my glasses to the top of my head. "I mean, what do I need? Anything special?"

"Yeah." He leaned forward. "You need your brains, whatever skill you have about books, all the Auror toys you've accumulated over the years and yes, that includes your guns."

"Fuck." I took off my glasses and stuck them in my pocket. "I'm not sure about this, Ron. I mean, its one thing to go over and help with this book and shit but I can't go off like I'm...well, whatever. I've got kids, now, Ron."

"And so do me an' Harry." Ron gave me a serious look. "But we know you're not an Auror."

"Am too. I have an office and everything. Even got this." I picked my badge off my robe and lifted it up slightly. "But I'm not a field Auror, Ron. Harry promised."

"Yeah, well..." Ron ducked his gaze for a moment and then met mine. "Harry can't keep this promise, not when he's Head Auror. This is bigger'n us, mate."

"So the book telling lies about y'all..."

"Shut it, that's not it." Ron shook his head. "The WLF's involved, remember them? Knights of the Wand, remember them? I'm sure your parents remember. It's not just here in Britain and in the UMS, not anymore. Starting to go worldwide. And somehow WLF shite is getting in those books, and we need to know why. Is it a code? Are they secret messages? Who's getting the Galleons from those books? Who's printing that utter rubbish? Harry says the goblins have it right, 'follow the gold.' Well, that's what we're trying to do, follow the gold. Malfoy's got something, but wouldn't say in a letter, and that means its big. So put on your big boy pants, mate. Strap on your bang bangs and get ready."

_Fuck me._

-ooo-

Melody took it about as well as could be expected, but I left out the part where Ron told me to bring my guns. I knew better than that. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission. I had two days to get everything ready, and I spent that time as best as I could; I spent that time taking care of Hieronymus and Virginia, not to mention Melody.

It was that last day, the day before I left, when Lavinia found me downstairs in the rocking chair, a sleeping Virginia in one arm and Eittel's copy of the Potter Adventure series.

"Hank?" Lavinia stuck her head around the corner and smiled as she saw Virginia. "She's out out?"

"Yep." I nodded. My daughter could sleep through a herd of elephants if she was asleep, thank heavens. "What's up?"

She walked over and sat across from me, perched on the edge of the chair. "Um, well...Melody said that you'll be leaving on Auror things, but I wanted to ask you something before you left."

"Ok, shoot." I closed the book and sat it on the floor very slowly as to not wake my daughter. "What's on your mind?"

"Willy and, well, your ex-girlfriend."

"Huh?" I squinted at her. "Come again?"

"You really loved her, didn't you?" She reached up and fingered the locket Melody and I bought for her years ago. "But it didn't last."

"Oh sweetie." I smiled. "You're thinking about you and Willy, aren't you?"

"What if..."

I stopped her. "Vinny, hold on. You'll be seventeen in June. I know it seems like people at Hogwarts pair off for life for some odd reason, maybe it's because there's no college afterwards, that's when people in the Muggle world get together, well, a lot of them do, but Vin, you're sixteen going on seventeen, not twenty-seven. Dating and, well, serious dating are something you learn as you go. If things happen they usually happen for a reason. I mean, look at me. If I had ended up with Christine I'd never have met Melody, hell, I probably wouldn't teach at Hogwarts. And if that happened there'd be no Hieronymus or Virginia." I gently smoothed the downy hair of my daughter. "If you play the 'what if' game you'll go nuts, trust me. I mean, I did that with Christine. And that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt or suck, because it does hurt and it does suck."

She laughed nervously. "It must have, if you put those songs on that tape."

"Oh God, don't tell me you listened to that."

She nodded. "It was just so...depressing, Hank."

"Well, I _was_ depressed. But I got over it." I took a deep breath. "Lavinia, look at me. If it is to be, then it will be. You can't force things. Have you talked to Willy?"

"Well..." she fidgeted with her locket "...no, I haven't. Not since holiday started."

"You could write him a letter but that's easy to misunderstand; talk to him. Later, when you get back to Hogwarts."

She gave me a weak smile. "Thanks. I will. Want me to take her?"

"Nah." I shook my head. "Just hand me the book, will you?"

Lavinia picked up the book, flipped it open, looked at it oddly and then handed it to me. "That's a lot of comments."

"Yeah." I smiled. "He was a helluva professor. Hard, I mean, you earned your A's in his class. Hell, the B I got in Shakespeare was something else, I was damn proud of that." I looked at her and knew she needed something to bring her out of her funk. "Tell you what, why don't you do the same thing? Go get the one out of my bookshelf and read it, make notes in it, stuff you think is weird. Wait, don't do that, you'd end up making notes in the whole damn thing. Just comment when you want, ok? Think of it as helping me, and, uh..."

"I know you're helping Harry and Ron, Hank."

"Hmmm..." I closed one eye and squinted at her. "Can't decide if that's a Ravenclaw or Slytherin statement."

"Funny.' She rolled her eyes. "You're so funny. I'll read it." She began to walk out of the room and turned back at me. "Ravenclaw I could handle, but not Slytherin. That was low."

"Oh go on, you'll live."

-ooo-

Ron, Harry and I, in our Muggle finest, or what Ron called 'my usual American crap' arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in New Orleans two days after my talk with Lavinia. I mentally thanked Melody for the fifth time about her 'bigger on the inside' backpack that she'd given me a few years ago, shouldered it and looked over to Ron as we were processed through customs. Thankfully our Auror badges sent us through the very short line as opposed to the long line of other arrivals. "So, Ron, what's first? Hotel or meeting?"

"Meeting." He said it very curtly and looked away.

"Jesus. All right." I looked over to Harry. "What's up his ass?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, he and Hermione..."

"That's enough." I waved my hand quickly. "Don't need anymore, thanks."

We walked through the terminal until we found the Floo that said Garden District. Ron handed me a piece of paper. "What's this?"

He rolled his eyes. "The address? Do you know where we're going?"

"No, I don't." I took a look at the paper. "Is this a thing where you can't know where the building is..."

"A Fidelius?" Harry shook his head. "No, it's just that you're not the best at the Floo, Hank."

"Shit." I scowled. "Screw up once and end up in an abandoned pub in Aberdeen and nobody forgets. Fine."

I watched Harry go through the Floo and then stood there for a moment, grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and threw it down, making sure to enunciate the address very clearly, not just to make sure I got it right but also to let Weasley know that I could use the Floo just fine, thank you very much. When I arrived Harry was shaking hands with Draco Malfoy. I brushed off the powder and shook Draco's extended hand as Ron arrived via Floo.

"Good to see you, Draco."

"And you too, Hank, though I wish it was under more pleasurable circumstances."

"You still talk like a ponce, Malfoy." Ron siphoned the Floo powder off, but his tone wasn't nasty when he spoke.

"Weasley, as charming as ever." Draco smiled and then shook Ron's hand. "Is Hermione pregnant again? You are a Weasley, I expect at least six or seven before you're through."

Harry laughed and put his hands on their shoulders. "I'm sure we can insult each other later, just for old time's sake, but we're here for a reason."

"Yeah, where are we, anyway?" I took a look around at the office; tastefully appointed furniture, bookshelves, ledgers, and a laptop over in the corner. A laptop? "Hey Draco, how'd you get the laptop to work? I thought magic fried the insides."

"Ah, yes." He stepped over to the desk and sat down, indicating that we should sit. Since there were only two chairs Harry conjured a chair for himself. Draco nodded towards the laptop. "One of George Weasley's ventures, actually. Its shielded from magic, something that I didn't really understand, but it is quite effective. Now, Hank, as to why you are here I'm afraid it has to do with those books. For where we are specifically, this is my office at DAS Enterprises. We have ventures both in the Muggle and Wizarding world, and for dealing with Muggles this is our office. The staff here are mostly Muggles except for my assistant. I should warn you..."

Before he could finish there was a knock at the door and before he could answer a tall, thin young man walked in wearing khakis and a polo shirt. "Sorry boss, your friends will have to reschedule. Your 2pm is here early and insists on speaking with David Miller."

"David Miller?" Ron looked at Malfoy and laughed. "What, you think Muggles might not think you're one of them with a name like Draco Malfoy?"

Draco smiled. "You should hear some of the names Muggles have, but you are right, Weasley. It is a rather wizarding name." He turned to his assistant. "Jean-Paul, tell Mr. Cartwright that I am finishing up a very important matter and will be available in a few minutes. Stall him as long as you can before he gets angry."

Jean-Paul shook his head. "Too late, boss, he's already mad. Permits didn't go through."

"Merlin." Draco shook his head and turned to Harry. "You'd think the Ministry was a piece of cake compared to getting all the proper Muggle forms entered." He looked over to me. "We're building a hospital. Completely Muggle, in all aspects, and apparently forms are a part of that. I will meet you later for supper, then we can discuss everything."

Everyone stood up so I followed suit. As I shook his hand he smiled at me. "I believe you will find your accommodations..."

"Oh no." I shook my head and let his hand go. "I'm not staying at The Vanishing Spectre again. No way, I'll get my own place."

"Hank, please." He smiled. "You're at the Bon Charme. Marie, you remember Marie Chennault from your honeymoon, don't you? Marie was quite pleased to give you the honeymoon suite again. Sorry you're with these two, though. Melody is much better looking."


	5. Miracles and Wonders

**Chapter 5: Miracles and Wonders**

The Bon Charme looked pretty much the same as it did when Melody and I were there on our honeymoon, but there was something about it that just looked...better. The paint was new, the flowers were in full bloom not to mention the landscaping, and everything just...it looked brand new. I hurriedly stepped out of the way for Ron and Harry to come through the Floo, and as I did I saw Marie Chennault on her way over. I stuck out my hand to shake her hand but instead she did a Molly Weasley and engulfed me in a hug.

"Oh Professor, so good to see you." She held me at arms length. "You lost some hair, but you still look good. Mister Draco been tellin' us about you over there in Scotland. Two childrens now, no wonder you lost hair, boy."

"Thanks, Marie. And you still look beautiful as ever."

"Pfft." She waved her hand at me. "Now I knows you lying, I'm a day older than dirt and just about as pretty. Come on, now, lets get y'all your rooms." She turned to Harry and Ron and shook their hands. "Mighty proud to have you two stayin' here, mighty proud. Mister Draco offered to pay for your rooms, and I got that letter from Gringotts, but I ain't putting that on the Auror account, no sir. Y'all stay here for free. Least we can do to thank you."

Harry shook his head. "Thank you, but that's not necessary. The Auror department..."

"Your gold's no good, son." Marie smiled and shook her head. "All I ask is that y'all sign in the guest register." She took her wand out of the pocket of her dress, one that looked like it was in style for church-going grandmothers in the 1950's and waved it towards the desk, and levitated three keys over, snatching them from the air. She handed one to Harry. "You're in the Fleur de Lis room, top floor on the right. Mr. Weasley, you're in the Turret room, right across the hall." She turned to me and smiled. "Pity that pretty young wife a'yours ain't here, but I had to do it. Hope you don't mind, Professor, but I put you in the Honeymoon suite."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Sure, not a real Auror and he gets the big room."

Marie dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Hush, child, all the rooms up there the same size. You be fine." She turned to Harry. "Floo's open for another hour if'n y'all want to go into New Orleans and get something to eat. Sorciere Perdue'll bring you back. No Apparition in or out'a the Bon Charme."

I took a look at the two Aurors. "You guys ever been to Bourbon Street?" Seeing their heads shake negatively I smiled. "Oh, you're in for a treat. You want to talk about a great place to eat..."

"Then let's go." Ron shouldered his bag and looked at Harry. "Come on, let's put our stuff away and go. I'm starving."

I followed them up the stairs, and when I opened the door to my room it was like stepping back in time, except for the facts that Melody wasn't with me, I had luggage and stupid teenagers hadn't stolen my beautiful, beautiful Jaguar. I was remembering how it felt driving that car when Ron entered the room without knocking.

"What's the matter, Hank? Getting all misty-eyed thinking about you and Melody?"

I took a deep breath. "No. Well, yes, but mostly my Jaguar. That was a once-in-a-lifetime car, Ron. Sublime."

"You're barmy, mate." Ron shook his head. "You and Dad. Come on, I'm ready to eat. What kind of food is there?"

"Oh boy." I smiled. "Ever had gumbo? Jumbalaya? Boudain...oh shit, boudain balls and fried alligator. Hell yes. Come on, let's get Harry."

-ooo-

I waved the waitress over and motioned for another round as the Cajun band began another song. It had been a hell of a night, watching Ron devour his way through Cajun specialties, describing how New Orleans was different than any other place in the US, but mostly just for watching my two friends, heroes in Britain, move anonymously through the sultry summer night. At dinner Harry had informed us that tonight was a free night, but that we'd be busy the rest of our trip, so we decided to do it up right. Well, I did and they followed, somewhat reluctantly at first, but after the first few drinks they joined right in.

"Same as before, but bring two of 'em." I smiled at the waitress who shook her head and laughed. I picked up my bourbon and Coke, drained it and slid the empty glass to the center of the table. "You guys look like you're right at home. Same as Draco, he loved it when I took him here."

Harry gave me a look but Ron waved him off and drained his glass. "Like anyone can hear over this...what's this music called again?"

"Zydeco." I bopped my head along with the accordion. "That's a Clifton Chenier song. Damn, I love this one. HELLO ROSA LEE..."

Ron hit my arm. "Bloody hell, we oughta cut you off."

"Oh live a little, Weasley." I reached over and grabbed Harry's glass and drained it. "What the fuck, straight Coke, no booze? What are you the designated driver?"

"No, Hank. I'm the Head...I'm in charge." Harry adjusted his glasses. "I'm alternating, that's the one without alcohol, ok?"

The waitress arrived with our drinks, sat them down and had to hustle to avoid a very inebriated couple dancing like there was no tomorrow. I wanted a cigarette really, really badly. I was about to go see if they sold any at the bar or, failing that, head outside and bum one but then three women stood by our table. They were in their early forties, if I had to guess, all dressed up and looking for fun, with really pretty cafe au lait colored skin, and the one who spoke first had long, braided hair.

"Come on, boys, let's cut a rug."

Harry smiled and gave them that 'sorry, no' look he had perfected when dealing with the press. "So sorry, we're married. Thank you, though."

"Oooh!" The one in a moderately tight tank top squealed. "I looove that accent!"

The third one walked over and stood between me and Ron. I could smell her perfume, and it was pretty damned good smelling stuff. "Three English men, here in New Orleans."

"He's American." Ron pointed at me.

"Dual citizenship, dork." I hit him on the arm and turned towards the women and helf up my left hand. "And married. Ladies, I think we'll..."

"Come on!" The one with braids reached out for Ron's hand. "One dance. Y'all might be married but ya ain't dead. Just a dance, c'mon."

"Well..." Ron smiled. "Just one."

As Ron stood up the woman realized how tall he is and laughed. "Glad it ain't a slow dance, that'd be something awkward."

As they walked over to the dancefloor I looked over at Harry, then to the other women, and then back to Harry. "Fuck it. Come on, Potter. Break out those wicked dance moves." I stood up, smiled at the lady next to me, the one with the nice perfume, and followed her out on the dance floor, followed shortly by Harry and the lady in the tank top.

We didn't talk, we just danced, first to another Clifton Chenier song, but then things got interesting as the band broke out a swampy, slinky Dr. John song. My dance partner was pretty reserved, as much as you can be with a lot of booze, but Ron's partner? Braid lady was getting into it, and Ron gave me a few 'what the fuck do I do now?' looks, which was hilarious. Thankfully, before things could get interesting the band took a break, so we thanked our dance partners and headed back over to the table.

I sat down, ok, half-fell down in my chair, picked up one of my drinks and put down half of it in one go. Ron looked a little pale, which made Harry laugh at him. I laughed at both of them. "If your wives could see y'all now, they'd, shit, they'd lose it. That dance at H...at school, you guys sucked at that from the stories I've heard. Maybe you just needed the right music." I finished my drink. "Jesus, I need a smoke."

"And what would Melody say about that?" Ron pointed his drink at me.

"Oh shit, she'd go off on me forever. But she's not here. It's a smoking holiday!" I stood up. "I need one, be right back."

Before they could argue I manuvered through the crowd, nodded at the bouncer to catch his attention and asked where the smoking section was. He pointed around the corner, so I half-stumbled over there and saw Ron's dance partner standing by the wall smoking. I headed over there and smiled.

"Sorry, but I really need one. Can I bum one?"

"Sure, honey." She reached into her purse, brought out the pack and handed it to me.

I took the cigarette and almost went for my wand when I realized that could get me in big trouble. "Uh, hate to ask..."

"Do you need a pat on the back to get it started, too?" She laughed and pulled out a pink lighter from her purse.

"Thanks." I lit the smoke, inhaled, and closed my eyes. "Goddamn I needed that. Thanks." I stuck out my hand. "I'm Hank."

"Ruby." She smiled. "Where you from? Can't place that accent."

"Virginia originally, but I live in Scotland now."

"That explains the Brits." She smiled and took a drag off her smoke. "What y'all doing over here? Tourists?'

I shook my head. "Nah, funeral, actually."

She gave me a sad look. "Sorry to hear that."

"Its ok. Unexpected, but what can you do?"

"Live. That's what. Drink, dance, and live." She pulled out another cigarette, stubbed out the other, spent one with the toe of her sandal and lit the new one. "Your friend isn't much of a dancer. Forgot Weasley was that tall."

I nodded. "Yeah, Ron's definitely got that going for him." I stood there for a moment and then it hit me. "Holy fucking shit!"

Ruby laughed a long, throaty laugh. "Oh my, if you could see your face...don't worry, Professor. Tauntie Marie said y'all were comin' down to Bourbon, so we thought we'd have some fun." She looked around, saw nobody looking and took a thin wand out of her purse, cast a quick spell and smiled at me. "There, nobody hear anything they ain't supposed to. Lavender's gonna love this story."

"You know Lavender?" I pushed my glasses up to my forehead, where they immediately slipped down due to the sweat, so I put them in my pocket. "Shit, are you AAB?"

"Ruby Dupree, AAB, at your service. Don't worry, Professor, we aren't here on work. Well, sorta. Promised we'd watch out for y'all tonight since its your fun night. Unofficially. You introducing Potter and Weasley to New Orleans proper?"

"Guess so." I laughed. "Never seen anyone eat more fried alligator and gumbo than Ron." I gave her a smirk. "So the dancing thing...you're just giving us shit?"

"Yeah." She exhaled. "Wanted to have a bit of fun. I mean, now I can tell everyone I danced with Ron Weasley. Poor Esme, she just got you. We drew straws, Cindy got the short one so she picked Potter."

"Well fuck." I put out my cigarette and lit the other one. "I get it, I'm small potatoes compared to those two. No, no really, I am. Totally get that."

Ruby flipped her braids over her shoulder. "You really going to a funeral or was that just a cover story?"

"Yeah." My voice was quieter. "I do have a funeral to go to."

"Sorry to hear that." She looked over at the bar as the music started up again. "So, should we go in and save Potter and Weasley?"

"Yeah, but let's have some fun with it." I smiled at her and flicked my cigarette into a puddle. "George would never forgive me if we didn't."

When we walked back over to the table I had my arm around Ruby's shoulder and she had her arm around my waist. When Ron saw us he half-spit out his drink while Harry looked as if he'd just been told that Ginny was actually a man. I sat down in the chair and Ruby sat on my lap. I picked up my drink, took a big slurp and smiled at them. "Hey guys, we're relocating. House party. Private party. Come on, let's go settle up and leave." I waved my arm for the waitress.

"Hank." Harry looked at me stonily. "We are on holiday, but look at your hand. Your left hand."

"Yeah, mate." Ron leaned over the table. "How old's your daughter? Melody's gonna bloody kill you. Quit it."

I looked up at Ruby and we both broke out in laughter at the same time. She slid off my lap, pulled a chair over from an empty table nearby, and leaned over to Harry. After whispering in his ear he let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. Ron, though, still looked concerned as all get out. Thankfully nice perfume woman, who I later learned was Esme, whispered in his ear. His expression changed from one of concerned anger to one that was a mixture of irritation and relief.

"Bloody hell." Ron shook his head at me. "You're worse than George."

The waitress brought over the bill, I signed the tab and smiled. "I try, Ron, I try."

"Wanker."

-ooo-

The sun broke in the windows way too fucking early. I rolled over in the big, empty bed and realized that I had hugged a pillow the night before when I slept, which was cold consolation, as I did miss my wife. We didn't go directly home after the bar, since Ron said that I owed him at least a couple more drinks for fucking with him about cheating on Melody, so the six of us went to another bar and had too many drinks. Ruby took us to a magical bar in the Garden District, one that the New Orleans AAB agents frequented, so then we could really talk. One drink led to another as stories about Auror and AAB agents were trotted out, and I even felt fairly included as the ladies asked me about the whole missing Muggle Studies professor case from a few years back. By the time we caught the Sorciere Perdue even Harry wasn't walking the best. It was a toss-up between me and Ron for who was worse off, but my guess was that it was me because he didn't wake up feeling like he'd licked an ashtray.

I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, sat up and immediately laid back down, as my head protested vigorously. "Fuck. Fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I laid there and hoped Marie had some hangover potions.

Eventually I did make my way into the shower, which made me feel somewhat human, and after getting dressed I made my way down to the breakfast area to find both Ron and Harry already seated, drinking coffee. Harry was wearing sunglasses, so I knew he wasn't feeling the best, but Ron looked as if nothing unusual had happened; he shoveled large amounts of biscuits and gravy into his mouth. When I sat down he gave me a big smile.

"Hey Hank, how you feeling? I thought they were mental, biscuits and gravy, but these are American biscuits, big difference."

I reached over and poured a cup of chicory coffee and took a big sip of it, black. "Shut up, Ron. I've told you that a million times. Hell, I've even made biscuits before. You've had them at my house."

"Well, yeah, but...oh, and these things? What are these?" He pointed to a bowl with only three left. "Those are great."

"Beignets." I nodded. "Yeah, they are." I looked over to Harry. "Can't you hex him or something? It's not right."

"Tell me about it." Harry shook his head, slipped off the sunglasses and closed his eyes. "Bloody annoying, that's what it is."

"Oh my." Marie stood at the table and shook her head at us. "Bourbon Street and Ruby did a job on y'all. That girl can hold her own with the best of 'em. Here." He handed us hangover potions. "Mixed 'em up special this morning. Put my mama's secret in 'em."

Harry grabbed for one the same time as I did and Ron laughed. "Lightweights."

"Shut up." Harry and I said it at the same time.

"Pitiful. You boys is pitiful." Marie wiped her hands on a towel and put it over her shoulder. "Floo's open in about an hour, you should be right as rain by then."

"Thanks." I downed my hangover potion and felt a bit of heat in my mouth. "Is that..."

"Tabasco." Marie smiled. "Opens you up. You'll be fine. Mr. Weasley, more beignets?"

"Oh yeah." Ron nodded, took the last three and handed her the bowl. "Thanks, these are great."

After she left I looked over to Harry, who seemed to becoming more and more human as the seconds sped by. "So what's the agenda today? Official shit?"

He nodded and put on his real glasses. "Yeah. Today and tomorrow. Today's the AAB, tomorrow's Malfoy, and then we're going to Virginia with you, stop by to see your parents, and then attend the funeral."

"Oh yeah." Ron smiled. "Your mum wrote my mum. If we don't stop and see her you'll be in big trouble. She said she wanted you to take something to Eittel's partner. A card, I think."

The reminder of Eittel's funeral made me smile, an odd thing, obviously, but I had tied one on with Eittel many times, and since I was in New Orleans I thought of how much Eittel would have loved a New Orleans funeral. But then I remembered Eittel's letter, that there was something else that he wanted his partner Lindell to give to me. If Eittel had done the notes in the first Potter Adventure series book, had he done the same with the others? It was while I was thinking about what the other bequest could be when Marie brought over the next bowl of beignets. Thankfully the hangover potion was working well enough that I could have one. Can't go to New Orleans without beignets.

-ooo-

You would have thought that the meeting with the AAB would have been interesting but it was boring as shit. I paid attention for the first few minutes, even though I was sitting in a chair away from the main table, but after they started going into procedureal stuff I just tuned out. I got the main gist of it, though; they were actively investigating the WLF and the other American idiots, and they were interested in the Potter Adventure series, especially the ones that had details that people should not know unless they were involved with the WLF and stuff, but then they started talking about surveillance techniques, jurisdictions, stuff like that. I swear cops can make even the most interesting stuff sound boring as hell. The only time I actively listened after that was when my name came up and I had to talk a little bit about the Potter Adventure series, how I thought different people wrote the books because of the stylistic differences, but after that I tuned out.

Instead of paying attention my mind kept wandering back to Colony House, wondering what kind of trouble Hieronymus was getting into, if Virginia was still sleeping like a log, completely different than her brother at that age. I wondered how my students were getting along, how the classes were doing, but mostly I thought about Melody. I wished she had been with me dancing the night before, and in my mind's eye I flashed back to our honeymoon, that horrible Vanishing Spectre hotel, the mornings of coffee and beignets out in the courtyard, sitting in the sun, reading the paper and watching little birds become braver and braver, hopping over towards our table, hoping for little scraps. Besides that I remembered the sun in her hair, how she wore those sunglasses as I drove the Jaguar, her smile as she draped an arm on the door as the Louisiana scenery went by, my Braves hat jammed on her head to keep the wind from playing havoc with her hair.

Dancing with a pretty woman the previous night notwithstanding, I realized I had it bad. I was totally in love with my wife.

The sound of chairs scraping the floor was my signal to pay attention again, and I stood up with everybody else and followed Harry and Ron out of the office. When we were out in the hallway I asked about the schedule again, and since we were actively working, well, since they were, anyway, it was going to be a quiet night. They had parchment to look through and I was at loose ends. I thought about calling by brother Nate and Lavender but Harry nixed that, since plans had changed with Malfoy. Apparently during the meeting he was given a note, so we headed out to meet Draco.

Instead of heading over to Draco's Muggle office, though, we Flooed over to Sainte Odetta Hospital. When we arrived, and I could tell immediately we were at a hospital, I gave Harry a confused look.

"Is someone sick? Ill, you know what I mean? Is Draco in here?"

Harry nodded. "He is, but he's not a patient. His wife is."

"Astoria? What's wrong with her?" I looked over to Ron. "What do you know?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno, Hank."

We walked through the hospital, took the elevator and ended up on a very quiet floor. A Healer met us, gave us surgical masks and insisted that we put them on, which freaked me out. She told us they were enchanted masks, that they should protect us, but that we were not to touch anything.

I caught Ron's eyes and he didn't give me a very encouraging look. Harry wasn't any better.

We walked into the room, the door opening magically as we approached, and after I entered the room I saw her; Astoria was prone on the bed, Draco at her side, holding her hand. Her eyes were closed and I could see the sweat on her forehead. She looked as pale as the brilliantly white walls.

Draco looked up at us and I could see fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't..."

I shook my head. "Never mind. What's going on?"

"She's..." Draco sighed worriedly. "They don't know. She hasn't been feeling well, and last night she fell in the kitchen. She said she couldn't feel her legs and then she passed out. I brought her here right away. They've been running some tests. They know what it isn't but they don't know what it is."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Ron stuck his hands in his trousers. "Is there anything we can do?"

"We can meet later." Harry nodded. "And Ron's right, if there's anything we can do..."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Draco nodded. "But I brought it with me. Would you do the honors, Potter?" Harry took out his wand and cast a privacy spell. Draco reached behind him and pulled out a file folder from a briefcase. "I've come into some information that should be useful, especially to you, Hank. Your old 'friend' from that dodgy bookshop in Rue Avenue has started a business, a publishing business. He's printing illegal copies of your books."

"Jeez." I took the folder from Draco. "Little bastard creeped me out back then. Painful poker and those bug eye glasses." I flipped through the pages. "So why did I have to come over here?"

"Publishing laws." Draco took a soft rag and wiped the sweat from Astoria's forehead. "You have to make the complaint in person. Tried to get the paperwork filed for you, but I'm not your counsel. Even if I was it wouldn't suffice. Goblins are most precise when it comes to these things." He looked over to Harry. "I believe if you can trace Hank's books back to the publisher you might find who is printing those awful books about you, Potter."

"And trace the gold." Harry nodded. "Thank you, Malfoy. We'll look into it." He watched Draco's gaze drift over to Astoria. "But don't worry about that right now. Who's watching your son?"

"Scorpius is with his nanny and her family right now. I don't know what we'd do without them."

Harry dismissed the privacy spell. "Ok, then, we'll leave you."

The Healer walked in, cast a few diagnostic spells on Astoria and turned to leave when she saw me. "Where did you get that folder?"

"Uh, from Draco." I nodded in Draco's direction. "Why?"

The Healer flicked her wand at the ceiling, causing the lights to flash a bright blue. Three Healers swept into the room and the wand-flicking Healer pointed at me. That was the signal for all hell to break loose. One of the Healers cast some sort of weird purple spell at me which covered me in a purple cloud while the other one hit me with a spell that made me go stiff, petrificus something, and then they levitated me out of the room and into the next room. With another wave all my clothes were gone, a hospital gown was slapped on me and I was put into the bed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Healers do a spell that made it impossible for Ron and Harry to come into the room, and Harry was talking rapidly to one of the Healers.

_Fuck_.

I laid there, unable to move for God knows how long, and finally a Healer came in, some lady with salt and pepper hair, and did the counter-whatever so I could move again.

"What the fuck is going on?" I sat up quickly, worried and mad. "I mean, what the fuck?"

"You were told to touch nothing, weren't you?" She shook her head at me. "Your vitals aren't very encouraging, you're dehydrated and there's a substance in your blood..."

"Of course I am, I got shitfaced drunk last night! I smoked like half a fucking pack of cigarettes! Seriously, you'd better tell me what the hell is going on right now or..."

"You'll do nothing of the sort." She stood, adamant, with her hands on her hips. "I am the Head Healer on Duty and you'll do exactly what I say if you want to live."

"What?" I reached up to pull my glasses onto my face but they weren't on the top of my head. I looked around and saw them, blurrily, on the table next to the bed. I grabbed them and shoved them on my face. "Ok, now you're freaking me out. Seriously, what's going on?"

She blinked a few times and then, after what seemed like forever, nodded. "We don't know what it is, but we think Mrs. Malfoy is patient zero for a new disease. We've never seen anything like it. It attacks a person's magic, affecting the bloodstream and circulatory systems..."

"Oh. Then don't worry about me. I'm only 3% wizard." She looked at me as if I was still drunk. "Seriously, I'm 98.7% Muggle. They did a test at the Ministry of Magic and everything. I'm Hank Boyd. Professor Muggle. I teach at Hogwarts, I wrote the textbooks and the other books."

"Sorry." She shook her head. "Never heard of you."

"My publishing agent sucks. Not surprised." I adjusted my glasses. "Really, though, I don't have much magic at all. Squibs probably have more magic than me. All I can really do is light cigarettes and pipes with my wand. Send an email or owl or whatever over to St. Mungo's in London. They can verify everything. Had to do a physical last year before school started. They've got my records. If this thing Astoria's got affects magic it won't do shit on me."

I could tell she didn't believe me but she left anyway. After she was gone everything started spinning in my head. I was in a hospital. Astoria was patient zero for some fucked up disease that they didn't know what it was, didn't know how to treat it, and for all I knew I'd end up spending God knows how long stuck in isolation. The worst case scenarios started playing out in my imagination, visions of the plastic government crap in E.T. filled my head, along with that seventies TV movie about the boy in the bubble. To keep my sanity I kept singing that song by Paul Simon off of Graceland.

_These are the days of miracles and wonders so don't cry, baby, don't cry._

"Professor?" The Head Healer lady walked into my room with a file in her hands. "I apologize for everything, but we cannot be too careful. Only Auror Potter and Weasley's clearance allowed them on this floor, not to mention Mrs. Malfoy's room. We'd like to keep you overnight, just for observation, but we have confirmed with St. Mungo's, and the British Ministry of Magic, that you are of, ah, limited magical ability."

I nodded. "Yep, wand's pretty much useless. So after you run some tests in the morning I can leave?"

"If everything goes well, yes. But the UMS Department of Health may restrict your movements."

"Restrict my...oh fuck, hold on a second. Do you mean I can't go back to Scotland in a few days?"

"That is possible. Let's just see what the tests say in the morning before jumping to any conclusions, please."

"Great. That's just fucking great." I ran a hand through my thinning hair. "Just fucking great. So now what?"

"We'll be in to run some tests shortly. Just rest."

"Rest? You're kidding. There's nothing in here, no books, no TV, nothing. What am I supposed to do? Can't you just give me a sleeping potion or something?"

She shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We don't know if it would interact with the illness Mrs. Malfoy...you've been exposed, Professor Boyd. We can't contaminate the tests with any false positives that may occur after ingestion of a sleeping potion."

"Goddamnit. Goddamnit. Fine. Then can you bring me something to read?"

Once again she shook her head. "We can't risk contamination. This is a clean room."

"No shit." I reached over and pulled the file off the stand next to the bed. "What about this? Is this supposed to be in here? Clean room my ass." I saw her give me a look that reminded me of the ones my mother-in-law gave me when Melody and I first started dating. "Too late on this one, I'm keeping it or else I'll go nuts. Just do me a favor, tell Harry and Ron what's going on, ok? Can you at least do that?"

She nodded, turned and without another word left the room.

So there I was, in a hospital bed, nothing on except a stupid hospital gown that didn't cover my ass, with Draco's file and my glasses, no windows, no TV, nothing else except me, white walls and Merlin knows how much time before I could get out of there. If I ever got out of there.

Fuck. What would Melody say?


	6. Funeral for a Friend

**Chapter 6: Funeral for a Friend**

Since I had nothing else to do in that damned white hospital room I read the file I got from Draco. My books were being published illegally, that was for sure, because I hadn't seen a single Gnut from the sales. Not surprisingly the textbook wasn't bothered with, since the market for illegal texbooks was almost non-existent, but they were publishing _My Wand is Useless_ at an impressive clip. I knew it had been published and reprinted once, with a number for the second run that Ian thought was proper but I knew was optimistic. It had sold in decent numbers but Coswock, my stupid press agent/publisher, was certain that it would be read in even greater quantities, which left me with a good stock in my shed. I had at least three boxes in there. The fact that the American illegal press was publishing _Useless_ in decent numbers was a shock. My guess was that it was the connection to Harry, Ron and the rest of my friends that was the real draw.

Draco had been right, as they had traced the initial run of _Useless_ back to that crazy wizard with the giant glasses from the now-shuttered bookstore in Rue Avenue. Apparently his winning streak at painful poker had caught up with him, as one of the low-lifes in the game had been arrested for something and, since he'd lost a ton of cash to the glasses guy, he gave up as much information as he knew. He also accused glasses guy of cheating, so no ill deed goes unpunished. Draco's people had traced the printing to somewhere in Mississippi, as that's where the distribution originated from, but by the time the AAB had investigated they'd moved the operation to somewhere else.

I'd gleaned that much information when a Healer came in and did some tests. I'd been in the magical world for some time, but I'd never really been in hospital except when I got roughed up back in my first year and then with Melody for when the kids were born, so it was a real eye-opener. I expected, for some reason, for it to be better. Magic seemed to make some of the boring stuff go away, things like waiting for a ride, stuff like that, but in that stupid hospital room nothing could alleviate the boredom.

I was absolutely, utterly, bored out of my fucking mind. I missed my wife, I missed my kids and the craziness, I missed my dog Spit and my cats, even including Churchill, Melody's cat who really couldn't be arsed to pay attention to me unless I provided food. I really missed Virgil, my giant grey cat who always seemed to be smarter than most cats. I missed a lot of things, because the room was like a goddamned sensory-deprivation chamber. Nothing.

Finally, after what seemed like two-hundred days a Healer came in, waved her wand at me and then scribbled something down on the parchment covered clipboard.

"Mister Boyd, we believe you are no longer contagious, and we will release you shortly, but you will be monitored."

She waved her wand at me again and a little blue and white bracelet fastened around my right wrist. "What the...great. Just great." I messed with the bracelet for a second before I realized that the only way the damned thing was coming off is the way it went on; magic. "Ok, fine. So what's this thing do? I feel like I've been arrested and shit."

The Healer looked irritated, as if she had to explain to a toddler why water was wet for the forty-ninth time in an hour. "It simply monitors your vitals. All the information will be inserted into your file, and if we see anything alarming your location will appear on our files for your immediate transport."

I sat there for a while until it sunk in. "So it's like a portkey that's activated if stuff goes bad, right? Ok, fine. Will it work when I go back home?" I saw her shake her head negatively. "Jesus, so I have to stay here? That's not gonna work, my family, my job, everything's over there, I'm just here for a visit, and now you're trapping me here until..."

"Mister Boyd."

I couldn't help it; I was mad. "Professor. I'm a professor."

"Yes. Well then, _Professor_, since you didn't let me finish, it will work while you're here and then _when_ you return home St. Mungo's will repeat the process. You'll be released soon, so let me start the process." With a nasty look and another wand-wave my hospital gown disappeared.

She gave me a smarmy look and left the room, and like before the door melted back into the wall, leaving no way for me to leave. Not that I would anyway, sitting there on the bed buck-ass naked with only my glasses and that stupid bracelet.

By the time Ron came in with a Healer to collect me I was freezing my nuts off. Ron, of course, thought it was hilarious, which didn't help. At least he had enough kindness to lend me his Auror robe.

"You can keep it. Don't want it after it's been in contact with your bits and bum."

"Thanks, Ron. Really." I put on the robe while on the bed, trying to cover things. After I stood up, grabbed the file that Draco left and exited the room I turned to the Healer. "So can I have my clothes now?"

"Sorry, but no. They were destroyed. Possible contamination. Your wallet and other effects are at the Healer's station."

"Great." I ran my hand through what was left of my hair as we walked down the hallway. "Really fucking great. So now what?"

"Merlin, calm down." Ron shook his head. "Harry went to go get some things from the Bon Charme."

We followed the Healer to the station where they gave me back all of my stuff. As I put on my watch I realized I'd been in there for two days. "Sonofabitch! Two days? No wonder I was bored out of my mind!" I turned to Ron. "You're an Auror, arrest them for illegal detainment or something."

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, mate. Can't do it, since, well, we're in the UMS and I have no authority. Plus, it's the whole 'emergency disease' thing. Come on, let's get you signed out so we can go to your mum's. You do want to see your mum, right?"

"Yeah, I do, but I know how that'll go. 'Oh what's that on your wrist? WHAT? You were here in America and IN THE HOSPITAL and didn't call me?' Yeah, that'll be a blast." Ron gave me a look like I was being thick. "What?"

"Amateur hour, mate. You've spoken to my mum for more than five minutes, right?"

"Shit. Yeah, sorry. And hell, Ron, I'm not even her kid and she...stop laughing. Fine. Let's get me some clothes and get out of this fucking place."

-ooo-

I'd been to visit Mom and Dad in their new place before, but I'd never really stayed there. Arriving by Floo was a first. Of course, the fireplace is out in Dad's shed. Can't really have a big fireplace in Florida; looks all weird. Well, that's what Dad said, anyway. So I arrived via Floo with Ron, wearing my normal Florida stuff and Ron in his Auror robe, complaining that he was sweating his arse off, but as soon as we got in the house Mom fixed that with two big ice-cold glasses of sweet tea. Ron didn't look too enthusiastic about the sweet tea, but he was hot and all those years of Molly hammering on him to be a good guest fixed that up right away. I took the opportunity to use Mom's phone to call Mel and tell her that I was ok. Harry had contacted her about me being in the hospital, standard Auror procedure, he said, but I know him better than that. She was worried, but I assured her my crap magical abilities had paid off finally. She was also worried about Astoria, which surprised me a bit. I knew they got along ok but still. Eventually she had to go, since it was very early in Stintborough, but she said not to worry since she'd be up with Virginia soon anyway. After the normal 'I miss you and love you' bits I hung up the phone and returned to Mom and Ron. It was while we were sitting in the sunroom, drinking tea that Mom surprised me.

"Hank, they gave you a clean bill of health, didn't they?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather. "Uh, yeah. How'd you find out?"

"Lavender stopped by the other day and told me. She and Ron kept me up to date so I wouldn't worry."

I glanced over to Ron and he gave me a weak smile. "Thanks, Ron. Really, thanks. I appreciate it." I took a drink and turned back to Mom. "Yeah, it's really nothing for me since I really don't have any magic. Astoria Malfoy is..."

"Oh that poor thing." Mom shook her head. "She's such a nice girl, and that little boy is such a sweet child. I need to send her something. And Draco, what's he doing? He can't be eating right. I should make up some things to send over."

"Mom? You know the Malfoys? And Scorpius? How...what?"

"Oh yes." She nodded. "Your dad and I ran into them at an AAB thing with Nate and Lavender. She's such a nice girl, so I invited them over for supper. We had a nice evening. Did me good to see a little one since I don't see yours that often."

I looked over to Ron and he was doing a horrible job of not smirking. "Well, Mom, we do live in Scotland. And you were just over when Virginia was born. You know you and Dad are welcome anytime, I'm sure Mel would like that, especially now since she's outnumbered."

Mom didn't say anything for a bit but then she suddenly stood up. "Ron, can you help me with the Floo thing? I want to call Draco Malfoy. Who's watching Scorpius now, with her in the hospital?"

"Sure, Mrs. Boyd." Ron stood up and gave me a funny look. "Not sure where he is right now, though. Hospital's probably the best bet."

"Mom? What are you doing?" I got up and followed them out of the room and out to the shed. "And Draco said Scorpius is with their nanny."

"A nanny? Oh goodness, that's not right. I'll have him stay with me for a while. He liked it here, we had him play with all the toys we've accumulated over the years that I couldn't part with, not to mention the things..."

"Ok, Ok, Mom. If you're sure." I looked at Ron and he just smiled. A quick Floo call to the hospital later Draco agreed to bring Scorpius over, and afterwards when Mom hurried back into the house to get things ready Ron leaned over.

"Now you know why she and Mum get on like a house on fire."

"Shut up, Weasley."

Mom threw on her apron and started making about a million things, which made Ron happy. Bottomless pit Weasley. We sat at the table while Mom cooked, and it was weird. I'd done that a million times before, but never really in this house. Dad was due back in a few hours, as he was golfing with an old insurance buddy who had also moved to Florida, so we sat there and listened as Mom told us what was going on. My family was doing well, she and Dad had traded in my old Audi on a car for her, she'd been volunteering at the nursing home, cooking for them, as well as some other charities as well as being involved with a supper club and book club. Dad had tried to get that old VW Karmann-Ghia of my aunt's running again but gave up and sold it to a sixteen year-old kid for his first car. Good luck, kid. Other than that she wanted to know how things were in the UK. Poor Ron, he got a lot of questions, but not too many since she kept in contact with the Grangers. Apparently they were planning a holiday soon; Dad was going to rent an RV and they were planning on showing the Grangers the US. That was news to Ron.

In the middle of making pie crust she stopped and turned around, a sad look on her face. "Hank, I'm so sorry about Doctor Eittel. I didn't know him that well, but I know how much he meant to you. He and Lindell visited us a couple of years ago, on their way down to Key West. Your dad and I took them out to eat, and it was a nice visit. So sad. I think about Lindell rambling about in that house all alone and it breaks my heart."

"Yeah." I nodded. "Threw me for a fucking loop."

"Hank! Language."

"Yeah, well, sorry Mom. You had a card you wanted me to take to the funeral?"

"I do, it's on the table by the door, but never mind that right now. Please give Lindell our condolences."

"I will, Mom."

Ron cleared his throat. "Speaking of the funeral, I'm your escort. Sorry, mate. Auror Department orders, especially since you were in hospital. But since there'll be more Muggles than magicals there we have to drive up. You don't mind driving, do you?"

"No, I don't mind, but I don't have a car. Plus, that's in Virginia and, shit, sorry, Mom, it'll take at least a day and a half of driving, maybe two. Funeral's on Saturday, so...crap. We can't stay long, then."

Ron looked at his watch. "I'm sure we've got time to eat, though, right?"

"Of course you'll have something to eat, Ron." Mom nodded. "And you can borrow my car, Hank. It's in the garage." She glanced at Ron. "But I'm not sure how comfortable you boys will be in it." She walked over and pulled the keys off of a little hook by the back door. "Why don't you check it out? I've got to get these pies in and get the spare room ready for Scorpius."

I elbowed Ron, took the keys from Mom and headed out to the garage. "Ok, let's see what Mom got this time. She was talking about a Prius the last time I talked to her, but hopefully Nate talked her out of that." I opened the garage door and there it was. "Oh no fucking way, really, Mom? Sonofabitch. She bought a goddamned Smart car."

"Smart?" Ron laughed. "More like Small. I think I have shoes bigger'n that thing."

I opened it up and pushed my glasses to the top of my head. "No fucking way. I'm not riding in this thing all the way to Virginia. No fucking way. And where the holy hell am I supposed to put luggage?" I opened the back hatch and stuck my hand in there to show Ron how small it was and my hand went right in, as well as my arm, all the way to my armpit. "What the fuck?"

Ron took out his wand and waved it over the car. "Undetectable extension charm. Probably Lavender or your brother got one of his lot to do magic stuff to it like they did to your van. You know, before you fucked it up."

"Whatever, Ron. And that van got us out of Hogwarts when we needed it. I don't care if you can put the giant fucking squid in that thing, I'm not riding all the way in that thing. And your legs won't fit, and I'm not pulling over every five minutes so you can stretch. You'd bitch the whole way. Fuck it, I'm calling Nate."

I took out my mobile but the battery was flat. Fuck. Ron and I went back inside and I just shook my head at Mom. "Sorry, Mom, but I can't drive that thing. It's like a toy."

Mom rolled her eyes. "You boys. Your brothers said the same thing. Lavender likes it. I had her do a few..."

"Yeah, I saw that, Mom. Great for groceries and stuff, but I don't think Ron'll even fit in there."

"Oh." She wiped her hands on her apron. "Nate doesn't fit, so I suppose Ron won't either. Well, I guess you'll have to call your brother or hope your dad lets you borrow his, but I don't think he'll want to. Nate got him a car and he's rather...particular about it."

"Crap, what'd he get?"

"It's a Porsche Cayenne. Horrible mileage but he loves the thing."

"Fuck."

"Hank!"

"Sorry, Mom, it's just everybody in my family has cool cars. Well, your car isn't cool, sorry, it isn't, but really? A Cayenne?"

Mom's tone was rather brusque. "He's retired, Hank, let him have a bit of fun. And Nate got a really good price on it, too. It has a lot of miles, but it was well maintained. Why don't you call your brother and see if he has any connections down here? I'm sure someone will help you." She picked up the phone and handed it to me. "It's speed dial four."

I took the phone from her and couldn't help ask. "Who're the other ones?"

"Your dad is one, Jen is two, your house is three, Nate is four and Ted's house is five."

"Perfect order, Mom. Ok, I'll call him." I left her and Ron in the kitchen and walked into the sunroom and hit the button.

"Nate Boyd."

"Hiya shithead. I need a car."

"What else is new? Wreck the...hold on, you're at Mom's? Thought you were in the hospital."

"Just got out, I'm fine, only affects people with magic. Well, more magic than I have. So I gotta go up to Eittel's funeral in VA and Weasley says we have to drive. Mom offered to let me borrow her car..."

"Oh fuck no, that piece of shit? Do you know how much crap I got about that one? Wanted to get her a nice 5 series BMW or a Jag and she wouldn't hear of it. 'Oh Nate, those cars are too fancy for me.' Jesus, I'd rather she have a fucking Prius than that thing. Ok, so you need a car. Can't help you much, since I'm here in DC. Tell you what, though, I know a guy at a little dealership, they buy the shit we auction off that we take in trade-in that we'd never put on the lot in a million years. I'll text you his information."

"Phone's dead."

"Plug it in, idiot. Jesus, you're not at Hogwarts."

"Fine, asshole, I'll plug it in. How am I gonna pay him? Doubt he takes a draft from Gringott's."

"He owes me. Let him have a Z4 we could have put on the lot but didn't want to mess with the reconditioning. Plus you'll owe me."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, that's what I like to hear. Big brother owes me a favor. I'm gonna make it count, too."

"God, you're such a dick. I'll plug in the phone, text me the stuff and I'll call you from the road. And thanks, Nate. Really. I do appreciate it."

"What's family for? You'd better go, he's only open 'til seven. Gotta go, just saw a politician and his trophy wife walk in. Dude's got the 'I need a 911 convertible to impress her' look all over him. Later."

"Adios."

-ooo-

After Dad got home and took me down to the dealer I spent way too much time with the car thing. Initially he wanted to let me have a '96 Honda Civic hatchback without air conditioning and about a million miles on the thing, but I didn't think it'd make the trip, plus I didn't want to sweat my balls off. Dad took pity on me and chipped in some cash, since I only had about $500 in my American checking account that I kept open because Mom said I'd need it 'for emergencies' and we finally left with a dented, thirsty and ancient Jeep Grand Cherokee. At least the air conditioning worked and it was big enough that Ron wouldn't be smashed in there. By the time we got back to the house Harry was there, with the rest of my luggage from the Bon Charme, and he and Mom were playing with Scorpius Malfoy. That was a weird sight, let me tell you.

Harry commented that he wanted to see the car I got, which I knew was a giant clue because Harry really doesn't care that much about cars. Mom and Dad ignored it, as they were busy with Scorpius, but Ron cottoned on immediately.

When we got out to the Jeep Ron looked over to Harry. "So, what's going on with Malfoy? That's why you wanted to come out here, right?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, looked back to the house and then turned to us. "To be honest I'm worried about him."

"Wait a tic." Ron raised his hand. "You're worried about old ferret-face?"

"He's not my favorite person, Ron, but his wife's in hospital in a coma. Think about it. Someone's done this to her intentionally. What if someone did that to Hermione?"

A vein bulged in Ron's temple. "I'd tear the fucking twats limb from limb. If they're lucky."

"Exactly." Harry sighed and put his hand on the hood of the Jeep. "So think about it. If you're Draco Malfoy, and you've been working all these years to turn your life around, and somebody does that to your wife..."

"Bloody hell." Ron's voice was quiet. "He's...he's not gonna go back to doing, uh, that kind of shite, is he?"

"I don't know." Harry took off his glasses. "But when he was here, when he dropped off Scorpius, there was just something...cold about him. You know I know that look, Ron. It was the same one he had the year..."

"Vanishing cabinet." Ron spit on the ground. "I hope for his son's sake he doesn't."

"I think that's what is keeping him from doing it, Ron." Harry put his glasses back on and looked back to the house, as my Dad had just walked out the back door. "But if Scorpius wasn't here, I don't want to think what would happen."

Dad made his way over and took a walk around the Jeep, inspecting the tires. "You should make it ok, Hank, but if you want to keep it any longer than the trip you're gonna need new tires." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Time to eat, boys. Hope you're hungry. You're staying for supper, right Harry?"

Supper was enjoyable, as Mom had Scorpius in the high chair and we all tucked in to one of mom's big to-do's. Dad was happy as a clam because Mom had him on a limited diet, which he told me tasted like crap. I had a feeling if I went out to his car there'd be McDonald's wrappers stuffed in his golf bag. All through the meal, though, whenever I looked at Scorpius I had a bad feeling about Draco. I knew him better than Ron and Harry, well, at least since Hogwarts, and I knew how much his family meant to him. I also knew that he would spend every last Gnut and do almost anything to make sure that Scorpius didn't have to go through what he went through. Not about the whole Voldemort thing, that was borderline incomprehensible and horrific in a multitude of ways, but in the way that people said the name 'Malfoy' and the looks they have on their faces when they see him. Draco had started building that life in America, and now there was a real chance, with Astoria in the hospital, in a coma, that he would throw it all away. I really hoped he didn't.

-ooo-

The ride up to Virginia with Ron was actually pretty enjoyable, especially since he didn't care that I smoked. It was fun seeing Ron react to things. He started out pretty confident, saying he'd spent a lot of time with Hermione and her parents in the Muggle world, but Muggle Britain is different than Muggle America. According to Ron every food in America comes with cheese, cold beer is disgusting, nobody makes a proper cup of tea and all the radio stations are shit. He wasn't wrong on that last part, as for some reason the FM radio stations wouldn't come in and all we could get was AM radio. Things Ron Weasley does like about America include the fact you can get hot dogs and other junk food at every gas station and convenience store, you can drive fairly fast and it was interesting scenery. Took him a while to not freak out that I was driving on the other side of the road, though. We stopped for the night at a little mom and pop hotel somewhere in South Carolina, can't remember where for the life of me, and we slept like rocks. My bed wasn't bad, and Ron's sagged something horrible in the middle, but I don't think he cared.

When we pulled into my old college town it was obvious that things had changed. There were lots more shops, hotels, stuff like that, but even weirder was that the college seemed to have grown. Before it was always a little oasis in the middle of the town, and if you didn't know the college was there you'd never guess it, but now there were banners up and stuff all over the place. Our mascot was the Bearcat, and when Ron asked I couldn't actually explain what it was. He accepted 'sort of like a bobcat' when he saw the mascot on a window.

After we checked into the new Bearcat Hotel he knocked on my door. "Fancy a pint?"

"After that drive, and what's going to happen tomorrow? Hell, yes."

"Ok, but I'm picking the pub. The last one you took me to? The one with all the birds in short pants and tight tops? Hermione'd skin me alive if I set foot in one of those places again."

"Totally worth it. Hooters and Ron Weasley, a match made in heaven."

"Sod off, Hank. C'mon." As we walked out of the hotel lobby he grinned. "Seamus would love that place, though."

We got in the Jeep and I headed to the old part of town, the part I knew well. We'd driven down a few streets, and I was lost in nostalgia when Ron said he found the place. I took a look and my heart jumped; it was the bar that Christine worked in, the one where I met her.

"Are you sure, there's some other places..."

"Nope, that's the ticket." He looked over. "Whassa matter? Bad memories?"

"Not exactly."

"Well come on, then. I need a pint."

The place hadn't changed that much. They'd rearranged the bar, it was on the other side of the room, and the jukebox had been replaced with one that plays CDs, but other than that it was still the same dingy, sticky-floored place I remembered. We sat at the bar and I ordered a beer. Ron ordered a shandy, and I had to explain to the bartender what it was. As the guy walked away, muttering about Budweiser and Sprite, Ron grabbed some peanuts from the bowl on the bar and turned to me.

"You came her with her, didn't you? The photographer."

I nodded. "Yeah. Met her here, actually."

"Sorry, mate."

"No worries. You didn't know."

We took our beers, the bartender shook his head at Ron and went down to the end to wash beer glasses.

"Listen, Hank, I get it. Not easy dealing with an ex-girlfriend. Hermione's come a long way with Lavender. Still kinda weird, but, well, I was a kid then. We all were."

"Not the same, Ron."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. You were in love with her."

"Yeah." I took a drink. "But that's all in the past. Ancient history. I've got Mel and the kids now. Maybe if I hadn't gone through that, and all the shit with Janine, I'd never appreciate her like I do. And I do."

"No shit. It's obvious, mate. Always has been."

"Thanks."

"What are friends for?" He took a drink and was silent for a while. "So...you think she'll be there? At the funeral?"

"If you would have asked me before I saw her at that party I would have said no. But now, after all the stuff I've found out? I don't know."

Ron took a look around the place and then reached under the bar for a minute. The jukebox music ceased immediately. "Localized muffliato. Dead handy. So you think that there's more to those books, right? That your old professor left you some more books?"

"I don't know, but that's my guess. Lindell will know."

"You know he's a wizard, right?"

"What? No fucking way."

"Way." Ron laughed. "We did background before the trip. He's a wizard, but he doesn't really...well, he went Muggle."

"Whatd'ya mean?"

Ron took another drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Happens sometimes. Wizards and witches feel more comfortable in the Muggle world. Mostly happens with magicals that marry Muggles or Squibs."

I drained the rest of my beer. "So he really might know something about the books and all that shit, huh?"

"Yep." Ron reached under the table again and the jukebox blared into life with George Thorogood. "This round's on me."

-ooo-

As we pulled up to the church for the funeral I looked over to Ron. "So how're you going to explain why you're here?"

"Admirerer of his work?"

"How much do you know about Henry James, the history of gay literature and Polish cinema?"

"Uh..."

I laughed. "That's what I thought."

"It's a funeral, Hank. Nobody will ask."

"They will after the service. There's a rememberence party back at the house."

"Fuck."

"You know, as much as you Aurors do background and stuff you would've thought you would have done all this shit before now."

"Maybe I'm your boyfriend?"

"You're not my type, Weasley. No tits."

"And dangly bits. Fine, then you come up with something."

"You're a cousin of Lindell's. He's got a giant family. His dad has something like eight brothers and sisters."

"Works for me. And your tie's all wonky."

I fixed my bow tie in the rear-view mirror and we exited the Jeep. The church was one of the bigger ones in town, one of the more progressive churches, and Eittel had been a member for years. Decades, actually. It was a massive turnout. I'd been at the church a few times, mostly because Eittel had guilted me into it one time or another, but I'd never seen it that full. There was a balcony with pews, at the back of the church, and it was filling up. Light filtered through the massive stained-glass windows, and soft organ music played as people visited amongst the massive amounts of flowers. Ron said he was going to head up top to the balcony, to get out of the way, and before I could say anything he just melted into the other attendees, only his red hair sticking up amongst them as he was so tall. One of the guys from the church who I sort of remembered handed me the little program.

I looked down at the date. April 24, 2010. It seemed like eons since I was one of Eittel's students; back then 2010 seemed as far away as 2210. But I was in the church, in my suit, at Eittel's funeral. It just didn't seem real. It didn't seem possible. People like Eittel were just always around, always teaching, always planning next semester's classes, they don't just up and die. And then I thought about it. I'm in my forties. I have two children. That seemed impossible as well, and I'm sure if I would have told the hungover version of me in Eittel's class way back then what would have happened...it took all my willpower not to curse in church.

The pews began filling up rapidly and I looked around the room and finally saw him, there with an elderly lady, Lindell in a charcoal colored suit, a bright green tie and sharp rimless glasses. He was greyer than the last time I saw him, but who isn't these days? Or bald. Anyway, I started to make my way over to him and he caught my eye, excused himself and gave me a handshake that turned into a hug.

"Thank you so much for coming, Hank. It means a lot to me. It would mean a lot to him, too."

"Had to come, I couldn't miss...I had to. I'm so sorry. Still doesn't seem real that he's gone."

He nodded. "I know, but it was time. I'll tell you later tonight." He looked over my shoulder. "There's Angie, his sister. I'd better go see to her."

I watched him walk away and realized it was almost time to start the service so I needed to find a seat. I went to one of the pews towards the middle of the church and sat at the far end next to an older couple who I didn't recognize. There was enough room for about maybe three people in the pew, and when two more people sat down at the other end I scooted towards my end of the pew. I sat there for a moment, not really noticing anything, lost in my thoughts when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Can I sit with you?" Christine Rowan, in a somber black dress with pearls, her hair pulled back. "Are you saving the seat?"

"No. All yours." I scooted over to give her room.

She sat quickly. "Thank you, Hank. I don't really know anybody here. Except for you and Lindell."

For some reason my mouth just started working. "Ron Weasley's up in the balcony."

"Oh. Ok." She fanned herself with the program. "So many people."

"Yeah, he was a force of nature. Plus he taught for years."

Then the music ended and the service started. It was a very nice ceremony. The minister had so many kind words to say, about how Eittel had donated his time and energy to the church, to educating young adults and how he and Lindell found each other. Back when I was in college to openly admit a gay relationship, in church, at a funeral would have been astoundingly rare; now nobody batted an eye. Actually, they did bat eyes, in tears. Christine teared up and began searching through her purse for a tissue so I reached into my jacket and gave her a handkerchief. I made a mental note to thank Nonky later.

And then the service was over. There was no burial as Eittel had wished to be cremated; Lindell would scatter his ashes in their garden later on, apparently. As people filed out, and gave Lindell and Eittel's sister their condolences, Ron met me and Christine outside the church.

"Ron, I think you remember Christine..."

She shook his hand. "Rowan, actually. Rowan Wright. We met at the..."

Ron nodded. "Oh yeah, I remember." Ron took a look at the church, which was still slowly emptying out. "So, how long until we...bloody hell that sounds awful, even to me. Right after a funeral and I'm thinking about work."

"Don't worry, Ron." I gave him a weak smile. "Rememberence thing is much smaller, and I think it's only, uh, umm..."

Christine put on her sunglasses. "Our sort of people. I'll see you there."

We watched her walk away and get into a SAAB convertible. As she left the parking lot Ron turned to me. "I'm sure there's a great story about how you two ended up sitting together."

"Shut up, Ron. She didn't really know anybody else here and there was a seat open."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, right. I was up in the balcony. Plenty of seats left in the back." He put his arm around my shoulder. "Sorry to wind you up, just odd, being at a funeral for someone I didn't know. Sat next to an old witch who did a horrible job playing...well, she wasn't very convincing. Do have one question, though. Is this thing at the house a dress up thing?" He loosened his tie. "I hate these bloody things. Don't know how you wear one all the time."

I shook my head. "No, it's casual. Come on, let's go back to the hotel. I know you have to be as anxious as I am, maybe more, about what Eittel left me, and about the books." As we walked to the Jeep I gave him a smile. "Hey, maybe there's a new one that'll tell us all about how you landed Hermione. Probably some imperious spell or something. Oh wait, that's right, she's going to be Lady Black and marry Harry. After all he's Lord-Baron Potter Black."

He opened his mouth to say something but shut it immediately. After we got in the Jeep, I looked over and he still had his lips pressed tightly together. As soon as we pulled out of the church parking lot he looked over to me.

"Fuck you, Boyd. Fuck. You."


	7. Wandless Magic

**Chapter 7: Wandless Magic**

The drive over to the hotel before the Remembrance thing for Dr. Eittel was uneventful, as the earlier teasing from Ron about my ex-girlfriend made me think. _She said she didn't know anybody and there weren't any seats left, but Ron said from his view in the balcony that there were plenty of seats left. He also said that she leaned fairly close to me at times during the ceremony but I wasn't paying attention and apparently went into my 'stare straight ahead thing' as always during funerals. What was she doing? Would she be at the the house?_

Luckily I didn't have long to stew on the enigma that was Christine because Ron turned back into Auror Ron as soon as we met up in the lobby. It was hard to take him seriously, though, as he was...well, he'd stick out like a turd in a punchbowl with what he was wearing. I shook my head and headed down the steps to the spot in front of the window where he looked out at the traffic.

"Uh, Ron? Do you want to borrow some of my stuff?"

"Why? Isn't this ok? Hermione helped me get my...clothes for these kinds of things together. Bit hot, though."

I wasn't surprised he was warm, as he had on wool trousers, a button-down shirt, a Fair Isle sweater vest and a sturdy pair of brogues. Bet he had on wool socks, as well, but I didn't want to ask. "It is ok, but not for a thing in Virginia in April. It's going to be 78 degrees today, getting there already. You're going to bake. Come on."

He followed me up to my room and pulled off the sweater vest. "Bloody hell. Thought it would be too warm, but all I have is the Muggle suit and the Auror kit. And you're too short, not going to work."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you a wizard or what, Ron?"

"Oh. Yeah." He scrunched up his nose a bit. "But I'm a bit crap at the household stuff. Don't tell Mum."

"Don't worry, not a word. And besides, Christine said it's 'our kind of people' so if you fuck it up someone will fix it for you." I dug into my suitcase and pulled out a pair of jeans, a white Polo shirt and my old loafers. The loafers were showing a bit of age, but they were my favorites. I had their replacements on with my jeans and a blue and white checked button-down, so I didn't feel like I was under-dressed. "Here, wizard the shit out of the stuff. Just hope those shoes will take the magic. Hate to lose those."

He held them up and reluctantly sniffed them. "At least they aren't funky. What about socks?"

"It's Virginia. Pretend you went to prep school."

"I did go to prep school."

"Yeah, but going sockless at Hogwarts is a good way to spend time with Madame Pomfrey because you'll catch your death of cold. Scotland and Virginia are totally different, mate."

Reluctantly he waved his wand, got the jeans to work right, then the Polo shirt, and finally the loafers. He didn't bother to go into the bathroom to change or anything, just chucked it all and got dressed and then checked himself out in the mirror. "Not bad. Might have to do this for Hermione. She might like it. Wait, what about now?" He pulled off my sunglasses from the nightstand and put them on. "Bloody hell, you're as blind as Harry."

"Prescription, Ron. Come on, we'll buy you a pair at a convenience store or a pharmacy on the way."

Eventually we made our way to the street that led to Eittel and Lindell's house, after a stop for sunglasses, and when we were almost there I had to check myself. It isn't Eittel's house anymore, it's just Lindell's. That thought was in my head as I made the turn past the taco joint that was a landmark for me, as I have directional issues, and there it was, looking as it always had, the house. Cars lined the street, some with out-of-state plates, and I had to park three blocks away. As we walked over to the house I noticed that the little crappy place that Mike and I had rented that one summer had been torn down, replaced by a duplex. Things definitely change. We made our way up the sidewalk and turned into the walk, trees and hedges lining the way, and there it was, porch still filled with plants, cat in the porch swing. I took the lead, petted the cat for a moment and then opened the door.

It was almost like stepping back into time; I felt as if I would run into Mike and Cori at any moment, that Eittel would come around the corner asking if I'd been into his Bombay Sapphire Gin lately and if I hadn't would I mind fixing him a drink, that some student organization would be fixing food in his kitchen while he was...so many memories, all at once, but jarringly thrown against the scene of people milling about, talking, while music played in the background. There, on the mantel of the fireplace, was a picture of Eittel and Lindell on a beach, probably the Outer Banks, on a boat. The part that got me, though, was the fact that right next to the picture was an urn covered with a gold and green Chinese dragon motif.

I hadn't been there long, though, before I heard my name, and Lindell came over. Gone was the suit, instead it was replaced by a pair of buttery tan linen trousers, loafers and a red shirt. He stuck out his hand and I took it gladly.

"I'm glad you could come, Hank. We'll find some time later on, I have a lot to tell you. He also left something for you, too."

"Thanks, I...man, it's weird being here. I haven't been here in..."

"Years, yes, I know, Bramwell and I tried to figure when it was, the last time you were here, but he couldn't recall."

I put my glasses to the top of my head. "Bramwell? I thought his name was Bill?"

"Oh." Lindell laughed softly. "Bill was his, uh, Muggle name." He caught Ron's eye. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, the only Muggle here is Hank."

Ron nodded. "Good to know. Hey, wait a tic, how do you know who I am?"

"Where are my manners?" Lindell held out his hand. "You must be Ron Weasley, if the history texts and the papers are correct. Lindell Worthington. Good to meet you. Now, would you two gentlemen care for a drink? Hank, I believe you remember the rules."

I laughed. "Oh yeah. I remember. 'Would you care for a drink? Great, then fix me one.' I shudder to think how much alcohol has been in this house."

Lindell laughed and leaned over. "Just don't say too much to his sister. Besides, she's not taking it well. Oh, and it's Linda since we're in magical company. She uses Angie for the Muggles. No idea why, even after all these years. I trust you remember where the bar is located." He took a step away and then turned back. "Smoking is now out in the back, one concession I finally got from him a few years ago."

With that he turned to go greet some people who had just entered and left Ron and I alone. I turned to Ron. "Drink?"

"Something cold."

"I can do that." We headed over to the bar and that's when I realized I didn't know anybody else there. It threw me for a minute, but then I realized why, as it was a magicals-only event. How in the hell would I know anybody with magic from here? I fixed Ron and myself two stiff gin and tonics, heavy on the ice for the melting Weasley, and elbowed him. "Come on, let's go out back."

Ron shook his head. "She's gonna kill you, you know."

"Enough about death already, ok?" I gave him an irritated look and made my way through the kitchen and out to the back. The backyard, or the garden as I'd come to call it, was still the massively overgrown but manicured place it always had been, with statues, a birdbath, the trellis, and a little bench area with a few people standing around smoking. I made my way over there, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and reached into my pocket for my wand.

"Here." A tall, rough-looking bald guy in jeans and a t-shirt lit my smoke with his wand.

"Thanks." I took a drag and nodded to him. "I'm Hank."

He nodded as well, his bald head shining in the sunlight. "Rick. So how'd you know Eittel?"

"He was my professor. Went to college here in town." As soon as I said it you could have heard a mouse fart. Thankfully Ron came to my rescue.

"Hopefully some of what you learned paid off for your students at Hogwarts." He took in Rick and the other guy who hadn't introduced himself, then glanced over to me. "Even if you are a crap wizard." As the others laughed Ron nodded. "It's true, he's pants."

"Pants?" The other guy, a much older man, also bald but much heavier than Rick, took a step towards Ron. "Where you from, boy?"

"Boy?" Ron pulled himself up to his full height. "I live in England, _mate_."

_Shit. It was not going well. I had to defuse it somehow_. "And I live in Scotland, you know, where Hogwarts is...Ron went there, but he's an Auror now. You'd think he'd like haggis after all that time in Scotland but he still thinks it tastes like shit. House elves can't do barbeque worth a crap, though. Hey, is that place still down on Maple Street, that little joint that's only open for lunch?"

Fat guy exhaled and took another drag off of an unfiltered cigarette with yellowing, nicotine stained fingers. "Dunno, we're up from Mississippi. Lindell's my momma's second nephew or some shit, had to come represent the family.

Rick looked at me and narrowed his eyes. "You're name's Hank and you teach at that Hogwarts school, yeah?"

I nodded and exhaled. "Yeah, been there for a few years now."

Ron stepped a bit closer to me, slightly in front and it made me take a half-step back. "He's written some books, too. Maybe you've read them? Ever heard of _My Wand is Useless_?"

Rick and the fat dude exchanged glances, Rick threw down his cigarette on the grass, stepped on it and grunted. "Best be on our way." With that they went out the back gate and were gone.

I turned to Ron. "What the fuck was that? You just about knocked me over." It wasn't Ron Weasley, my friend and traveling companion for the last few days, the man who half-emptied an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet, it wasn't that Ron who looked at me. Instead it was Auror Weasley, all business and with a look in his eyes that didn't brook argument. "Jesus, Ron, what's wrong?"

His voice was low and tinged with anger. "Do you know who those bastards are, Hank? It was a decent glamour to hide the tattoos, I'll give 'em that, but I'm an Auror, I've seen better, I know when someone's using a glamour. Hank, who do you know that really hates you here in the UMS? Blokes with no hair? Ring any bells?"

"No hair, lot of people are bald, it...holy fucking shit." The cigarette about dropped out of my hand. "Here?" I took a quick glance at the house to make sure nobody was coming. "The fucking WLF? I figured they'd hate Eittel and Lindell because..."

"No, not the WLF. Knights of the Wand." Ron didn't blink. "That lot doesn't care about people being gay, they just don't see the reason why any Muggle should draw breath if they can help it. That little twat figured it out, too. Fatso wasn't quick enough on the uptake."

Suddenly I felt as if everything was crashing in on me; I was at Eittel's house for his glorified wake thing, I had on a bracelet from some hospital because of some horrible disease that put Astoria Malfoy in a coma, shit was happening with my books and all the crap with the stupid Potter Adventure Series, Eittel had left me something that could possibly be connected with all the damn books, Melody was home with the kids, Draco was possibly going to the dark side like Anakin Skywalker and the fuckfaces that attacked my parents' old house on the Fourth of July all those years ago were still around. Fucking hell.

"Here." Ron's hand smacked me in the chest, opening up to reveal my pack of cigarettes. Apparently I'd dropped it on the ground. "Figure you need one, and for Merlin's sake let me light it. You'll burn your face off."

"Thanks." I fished a smoke out of the pack and leaned forward while Ron held up a flame on the tip of his wand. I took a deep drag and exhaled. "I hate those motherfuckers." As Ron and I stood there a voice broke our silence.

"Still as eloquent as ever, I see." Christine's voice snapped our attention as she let the screen door close with that wheeze and small slam that all screen doors seem to have and began walking towards us.

I almost laughed when I saw her because I remembered her 'alternative girl' clothes from back in the day, and she was definitely not dressed like that. She had on a crisply pressed coral colored button down shirt, but the collar buttons were undone, the sleeves were rolled up and to be honest it wasn't buttoned up that much in the front because I had a feeling if she bent over both me and Weasley would get a look at her boobs. Instead of jeans she had on shorts, with little things embroidered here and there and a pair of cordovan penny loafers. Her hair was tied back loosely and she had on Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses. The only thing that looked the same was her smile and a martini glass.

She stood next to us, pushed the aviators onto the top of her head and then gave me a funny look. "Something amusing?"

I shook my head. "You used to make fun of the girls who came into the bar dressed like that. What'd you call them? Preppy cunts?"

Christine shrugged. "People change. I don't think my old Doc Marten's and Bauhaus shirt were appropriate. Not that I have them anymore." She nodded to Ron. "You clean up rather nicely, Mr. Weasley."

Ron pointed a thumb in my direction. "Blame him. Had to borrow from him because I came ready for April at home, not April here." He looked down at her. "And do none of your lot wear socks? Barmy."

She smiled. "Yes, quite a difference in climates. And I'm not surprised you borrowed from Hank; he was always a closet preppie, hiding GQ magazine under his copies of Spin and Rolling Stone."

After that an awkward silence descended upon us; I was busy thinking about how weird it was to be out in Eittel's garden talking to Christine, something I'd done decades ago, but more than that I was thinking about those bald idiots and how Ron had turned into Auror Ron. Eventually, though, Christine broke the silence.

"Can I bum one, Hank? Haven't had one in years, but I think it's appropriate today, of all days."

"Uh, sure." I reached into my pocket, fished out the slightly crumpled pack of cigarettes and handed them to her. As soon as she put the end in her mouth I pulled out my wand. "You can see my only trick." Surprisingly the flame was decently controlled and she lit her smoke.

After a good drag she exhaled. "God, I actually missed that." She took a drink, finishing her martini. "And now that I've lit one I need another drink."

Ron took the glass from her. "I'll take care of that. Vodka, shaken, not stirred?" He shrugged. "Hank's showed me the movies. I'll be right back."

So there I was, alone, with Christine. For a while neither of us spoke. A couple of times I went to say something but it simply died in my throat.

"Hank, I do owe you an apology." Christine motioned to the small bench and we both sat down. "I didn't know you had any magical abilities..."

I laughed. "Don't feel bad, neither did I."

"Yes, well...you know about the secrecy agreements. We were getting so close, and I had a feeling I knew what was coming next, but that meant so many things, not the least of which was introducing you to my parents. That would have been a nightmare."

"Because I'm a Muggle."

"Yes..." she took a drag off of her cigarette. "But it was more than that. Hank, I'd spent time with you over here, before Eittel met Lindell, and I knew how hard it was for two people to be in a relationship when one is magical and the other isn't. After we broke up I came over here later, in the beginning of Eittel and Lindell's relationship, and I realized that Lindell gave up so much..."

"You mean he went Muggle." I pulled out another cigarette and somehow managed to light it without burning off all my facial hair. "That's what Ron called it, anyway."

"Yes, there was that. It was part of it. I was just starting to get a few photos published in the magical magazines, just starting to build up my portfolio. You never really asked where I was when I went off for a few days, did you?"

"No, I did, you just didn't say very much. Something about family commitments, and I didn't push. To be honest back then I didn't care, I only cared that you would come back."

That made Christine quiet for a while. Eventually she looked over to me and took my hand. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Hank. I was so young, so much was happening and I didn't know if I was ready for what was going to happen next. Am I right in guessing?"

I nodded. After a while I found my voice. "Yeah. You're right. I was going to take you to CBGB's, take the train up, and after the show on the way back down I was going to ask you to marry me."

She squeezed my hand slightly. "Back then I would have loved that, really. Was it a good show?"

"Nah, some thrash-punk band I'd never heard of, but that wasn't important."

"Hank...Henry..."

"Don't." I shook my head rapidly. "Don't call me that."

"Oh." She took her hand away. "Melody calls you Henry, doesn't she?"

"Yeah." I took another drag off of my cigarette, a deep one, letting the smoke fill my lungs. I held it as long as possible then exhaled.

"It wouldn't have worked, really. It wouldn't." She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "There was just too much difference between us, Hank. My parents were rather traditional. To think of me bringing you home to meet them, dressed like we were back then, with your long hair, and then telling them you're a Muggle...and even though I know now you could handle it there are so many stories about witches falling for Muggles and it all ends badly. So many of them, so many stories. It would have ended in tears and Obliviation."

"Shit, that almost happened anyway. The Obliviation part."

"I know, I read your book. It's a wonderful book, Hank. I always knew you'd be a writer."

"Thanks." I stubbed out the cigarette on the bottom of my shoe and sat it on the bench.

"And look at you now!" She smiled. "A famous author, a Hogwarts professor, no less, and married to a witch with two children. Living in Scotland, God, you must love that. Do you still have a kilt?"

I laughed. "Yeah, two, actually, and a full mask badger sporran with a cranky attitude and a thirst for decent whisky. Boyd and MacDonald tartans. Finally did my genealogy research and figured out why I could never trace my family very far back. They were witches and wizards." Finally I found the words to ask what had been bubbling about in the back of my mind since the first time I saw her at the Forthingsgate party. "So what happened to you? What have you been doing all these years besides becoming a world-renowned photographer?"

She eyed the back door and muttered "Where is that drink?" After a bit she looked over to me. "I suppose I owe you that much, at least. Where to begin?"

"How about after you dumped me?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she gave me an embarrassed smile. "Touche. After we broke up I went back home. I grew up in upstate New York, my family has a large property there. We're an old American wizarding family, Daddy traced our line back to the first wave of magical immigrants. I can hear him now, standing in the library. 'Rowan, you have a duty to your family, a tradition to uphold.' Merlin, he was something else. Daddy was an official in the government, one of the men who ensured the secrecy statue was enforced. He didn't hate Muggles, far from it, but deep down he was afraid of what would happen if Muggles knew what we could do with magic. Mom...God." She rolled her eyes. "Mom was a society woman, one of _those_ types. You're from Virginia, Hank, you know what I mean."

I laughed. "Oh yes. Mom always hated catering their events."

"Now add a sense of entitlement and superiority because of magic, and then you've got Mom. Her goal in life was to marry me off to some man from a 'good, upstanding magical family of the right sort' so you can see how well it would have gone if I would have brought you home with me and said 'Tada! I'm marrying a Muggle.' Not well would be an understatement."

The moment she said 'I'm marrying a Muggle' made me think instantly of Melody's first column in _Witch Weekly_ and I needed Ron to bring over a drink ASAP. Where was that ginger bastard?

Taking my silence as attention to her story, Christine continued. "So I went home with my tail between my legs, only gave them the barest of details of my living in the Muggle world, and Dad pulled some strings and got me on as a photographer to a minor magazine. It was crap at first, taking pictures of stupid things like the opening of a new Portkey office, things like that, but I met a few photographers at other magazines along the way and somehow lucked into a job at _Bonum Investit_, one of the fashion magazines for witches. My career started taking off and that's when I met Matthew. I didn't date much after we broke up, just a few things here and there, nothing serious or anything that led to a second date, but Matthew...he was an editor. Things progressed as they always do, and then when he found out I was pregnant he quickly took a job in France and I never saw him again. He sends Piper things for her birthday, and will write letters, but I've never seen him face to face since then."

"Piper...you have a daughter? How old?"

"She's five now, a little fiery thing. Let me show you." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a very thin wallet which, after a tap of her wand, expanded into a larger purse-looking thing. After a few minutes she pulled out a picture and handed it to me. "She gets her coloring from her father. Definitely her hair and her eyes."

"Your nose and mouth, though." I smiled as a little girl walked through the hallway in Christine's heels, tons of clothing and jewelry on her arms and neck, and smiled brightly. "Looks like she raided your closet."

"Oh yes, she convinced Dilly, our house elf, that it was a surprise for me. She's quite the charmer."

I wanted to say 'like her mother' but thought better of it. "So where is she now?" Christine bit her lip slightly, a sign I knew from a long time ago. Some things never change. "Did you marry..."

"No." Christine shook her head. "Bob and I decided we didn't need a piece of paper from the UMS saying we were married to make things official. I think that's what did Dad in, if I'm honest. He died not too long after Bob and I got together. Bob's a good man, he's a furniture maker, the things he can do with wood and magic..." She sighed. "Mom is still around, though, being Mom. I'm never doing the right thing, according to her. She did find out about you, though, one night when I found her looking through my diary. She also found some of those mixtapes you made me. I had to come clean, then, as I was living with her and she was taking care of Piper. She hates Matt, has come to tolerate Bob and calls you the 'Muggle Mistake.' She brings you up when she wants to fight dirty."

"Jesus, Chris. Sorry about that." I reached for the pack of cigarettes and noticed the number of coffin nails was dwindling rapidly. After I lit one I looked over to the house. "Do you think Ron got lost?" She didn't say anything; instead she stared at a bird that had landed on the trellis and was singing brightly. I stood up and offered her my hand. "Come on, I need another drink." She took my hand, stood up, and after I let go of her hand we walked towards the house. As I opened the door for her I couldn't help myself. "And next time your Mom wants to fight dirty tell her your 'Muggle Mistake' teaches at Hogwarts. That ought to shut her up."

She smiled. "Maybe I'll send her your books."

"Nah." I shook my head. "Give me her address, I'll send her signed copies."

-ooo-

As soon as we hit the house I understood why Ron hadn't rejoined us in the garden as he was surrounded by people. He sat on the couch, empty glasses on the coffee table that were probably meant for me and Christine, while people stood and crowded around, sitting on the edges of tables, chairs, you name it. I wondered why for a moment and then I realized; he's Ron Weasley, one of the most famous wizards in the world along with Harry and Hermione, and in front of a captive audience that wanted to know everything about everything. I noticed Lindell at the edge of the crowd and he motioned me over.

"Sorry about that, they found out he really is Ron Weasley and, well, they just sort of attacked him. Politely, of course. I think those Potter Adventure Series books are read by more than schoolchildren."

"Shit." I sighed. I looked over at Ron and it seemed like he would do just about anything, including tell Molly about all the things he and Hermione did in The Burrow before they were married while Molly wasn't there, he'd rather do that than sit politely in front of a bunch of American witches and wizards and dispute those horrible stories. "I'll have to make it up to him."

Lindell nodded. "Yes, but it does give us an opportunity." He turned to Christine. "Rowan, be a dear and make sure things don't get out of hand, please?"

After she agreed I followed Lindell upstairs to Eittel's old office. It looked pretty much like it always had in my memory; papers everywhere, a few posters for Polish films, books jammed tightly in bookcases...I felt that at any moment he would walk in, flop down in that ancient chair of his, kick off his shoes and light up a smoke before telling me about some wonderful new author that I just had to read. But that wasn't going to happen; he was gone.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Lindell looked over to me. "I know I should clean in here, but I just can't."

"No, don't clean. It wouldn't be right."

Lindell leaned against the door frame. "I feel like I'd be destroying everything he took so long to put together. Some of those books are quite rare, and he had them organized in his own fashion. Makes no sense to me, but he could find anything in a second or two."

I reached over and pulled Lindell into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I am, I...fuck, I'm so sorry."

He hugged me for a moment and then when we broke apart he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes for a few seconds and then returned his glasses to their rightful place. "Thank you, Hank. I know we don't know each other that well, you were leaving when Bramwell and I first started really seeing each other, plus you were in the midst of..."

"Yeah, the breakup with Christine." I focused on the poster from some Polish film that looked like a cross between Salvador Dali and Andy Warhol. "She said she stopped by to talk to you guys afterwards."

"That was when you left to do your graduate work. She really cared for you, you know, but with her parents, and how young you both were..." He sighed. "I always held out hope for you two, Bram called me a 'hopeless romantic' but I think he knew it was for the best. And now, the way your life has turned out, would you change things?"

_Would I change things? I'd emptied many a bottle and many a pack of cigarettes over the same question all those years ago, but now, with Melody and the kids and Hogwarts and... _ "No. I don't think I would."

Lindell smiled. "That's why Bram and I worked so well. He balanced me out. He knew you'd be better off." He clapped his hands together suddenly. "So, now for the balance of your bequest. I think you'll find this very interesting, and so will your Auror friends." He walked over to one of the bookshelves, bent down and picked up a medium-sized box. "You can probably guess what's in here, can't you?"

"Books." I nodded. "Potter Adventure Series?"

"Yes, and more." He sat the box on Eittel's old chair. "You know about the Knights of the Wand from what we read in your book, and I'm sure you know about the WLF."

"Those fuckers? Oh yeah." I nodded. For some reason my eye was drawn to the elaborate old dragon ashtray that Eittel always kept on his desk. When you put the cigarette down the smoke was drawn through the neck of the dragon and came out of its mouth. I noticed Lindell looking at me. "Sorry, I just remember that ashtray. I asked him how it worked and he said it was an old Japanese secret. Guess it must have been magic, huh?"

Lindell chuckled. "Yes, it's charmed. He sent off for it by mail. I know he said he made his peace about being a squib years ago, but I don't think the hurt ever really went away." For a moment Lindell stood still, his eyes moving as if he was thinking of something, and then without warning he went over to the window and opened it wide. "I think it's appropriate, Hank. Feel free to use the ashtray."

I laughed, reached into my pocket and pulled out a smoke. After I lit it, took a drag and exhaled, I put the cigarette in the ashtray. For a few seconds nothing happened and then, like always, smoke began trickling out of the dragon's mouth.

Lindell sat on the corner of the desk. "Hank, you know that the magical world here in the UMS is much more accepting of marriages like the one Bram and I had, the Muggle world not so much. He was a squib, and always felt like an outsider except in the Muggle world. I think that's why he devoted so much of his energy to gay rights. He did not suffer injustice, regardless of who the perpetrators were, be that bigoted Muggles or bigoted magicals. For him it was a replay of the run up to Nazi Germany, even though I tried to tell him it was different he just didn't listen. I think being partly Jewish made it more keen for him."

"He was Jewish? But he went to church for all those years..."

"Partially Jewish, his grandmother was Jewish, non-practicing, of course. But it was in his history. When he started hearing about the anti-Muggle movements he dived into it like one of his research projects, pulling sources, finding...you know how he was with a project. To him it was personal. Since he was a squib, a gay squib, he felt the stings deeper than others would. He understood the outsider's perspective. And after Rowan came by, after your breakup, at night after Bram and I had gone to bed we'd lay there and out of the blue he'd say 'think about it, Hank and Rowan might've had a chance if it wasn't for all the pureblood, anti-Muggle shit.' He thought about you quite a bit, you know."

And there in the library my stomach began to churn into knots. I should've kept up correspondence with Eittel. I wrote him occasionally, called him a couple of times from grad school when I was stuck on a class, but after that I eventually just drifted off. I was a shitty friend to someone I considered a mentor. More than that, someone I considered a friend. "Fucking hell. I should have..."

"Water under the bridge, Hank, especially now. I can't tell you how happy he was when he found out you were at Hogwarts, and with a little bit of magic. I think he was jealous for a short time, but after he read your first book I think, more than anything, he was proud of you."

I took a drag off of the cigarette and replaced it; the dragon continued its charmed breath. As I stood there I stared at the box on the chair. "So, this box, then..."

"I believe you'll find all the Potter Adventure Series books with his notes. He used to stay up reading and marking them, all hours, actually, I'd find him downstairs in his robe in that ratty old leather chair with a drink at three in the morning, notes all over the margins of the books. But beyond that there are files, clippings from papers, and books from other authors. I gather you've already come to one of the same conclusions that he did."

"Different authors."

"Exactly." Lindell nodded. "And a name that I'm sure you're familiar with, Rita Skeeter."

"Goddamn I hate that bitch." I picked up my cigarette and took a quick drag. "She's the worst kind of writer, just makes shit up, doesn't care about who it will hurt as long as she gets readers. She did a quick stint in Azkaban but it didn't help, just made her worse. Well, that's what Hermione told me. Hermione is..."

"Ron's wife, I know. You do run in very select circles, Hank."

I waved him off. "Yeah, but they're just regular people."

"We all are, but some don't realize that." Lindell looked at his watch. "I think we've left the Order of Merlin First Class winner down there long enough by himself. I'll go save him, so why don't you take the time to look in the box? I know about the books and the papers, but he said there was something else he wanted to leave you, but he wouldn't say exactly what it was. I'll leave you to it, then." Lindell started for the door but stopped and turned. "I'll be spreading his ashes in the garden soon. Please stay until then."

"Of course." I watched him leave and then turned to the box. "Ok, Dr. Eittel, what mysteries did you leave me?"

I opened the flaps of the box carefully, and on top rested the Potter Adventure Series books, all of them with the exception of the ones I'd already received with his notes. Underneath that were multiple file folders stuffed with newspaper clippings, legal pads with his notes and several other books that I'd never heard of, all of them wizarding books. Some were novels, others were history, and all of them seemed unconnected to the Potter Adventure series. I put those on the desk and reached in for something stuck in the corner of the box, taking up one side. It was a thin wooden case with a gold clasp. I pulled it out, flicked the latch and opened it.

There, on a bed of black velvet, was a wand wrapped with a piece of paper. I took out the wand but felt nothing happen. After carefully peeling away the cellophane tape that bound the paper around the wand I unrolled it and began reading.

_Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd,_

_I present to you a memento, a reminder. I bought this wand in my youth in hopes that someday I might finally get my magic, but it was not to be. I am a squib. I have no magic. For years it was hidden in my office, but I knew it was there, and it haunted me at times. But then I met Lindell, a man who taught me love and understanding, and to be honest I didn't think of it for years. _

_But when cancer came calling I began to look back on my life, as those nearing Death's door often do, and I remembered it one day. I took it out and looked at it, and all those years of wishing I could use it melted away. What is a wand but a little stick? A wand does not make a man, for many have wielded wands that could not even fathom what it truly means to be a man. For me the wand became a symbol for what I have overcome, for how much I've grown, as it means that I am not defined by what I am not, but what I choose to be. I have chosen to be an educator, a mentor, a lover, a friend, a soldier in the campaign against injustice, and in my heart of hearts I hope that I have been a good man._

_I hope that you will take this wand, compare it with your own, and realize that even if you cannot wield magic as others it makes you no less a man. As for being less of a wizard, who is to say what truly makes a wizard? You know from countless volumes of literature that magic exists all around us, if we only take the time to see it, to notice it. _

_Remember the magic in your life every day, Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd, even if it never comes from a wand._

I moved the box off and sat in Eittel's old chair, squeaking as it always had, and read the letter a second time. Afterwards I lit another cigarette and watched the smoke pour out of the dragon's mouth. He'd given me another project, one to work on the Potter Adventure series authors, those secretive bastards, but he gave me so much more. I let his wand roll around in the palm of my hand and it was simply a nicely crafted stick. I put my wand alongside it, much darker than his, and felt the slight tingle that always happened when I really thought about my wand. My wand had changed my life in so many ways. Looking down at Eittel's wand I realized that his wand had done the exact same thing.


	8. The Ace of Clubs

**Chapter 8: The Ace of Clubs**

Thankfully Lindell had made most of the guests behave at the Rememberence thing for Eittel, as they finally left Ron alone. I was at the bar, fixing another drink, this time a big whisky, neat, when he stood next to me.

"Merlin's pants, Boyd, you owe me. You owe me big. I think you and Melody are watching the rugrats when we get home. For a week, no, two. That's it, me and 'Mione are gonna take a holiday, someplace far away where you can't owl me. Or call me."

"Sure, Ron. Not a problem." I put the whisky bottle back on the shelf and looked at him. "What can I get ya?"

He looked at me oddly. "So four kids doesn't phase you at all? What happened? Oh, and I'll just take a butterbeer. Wait, bugger that, I'll have what you're having."

I shrugged, pulled the bottle back out and poured him a stiff one. After I slid it over to him I leaned back against the bar, drink in hand. "Let's just say a lot of shit happened, not bad, but a lot of shit happened since you came back inside the house. Need you to do me a favor, though. Can you do that 'shrink shit down' spell that you and Hermione do when you're packing? Got a pretty good sized box upstairs that I don't want to lose. Not saying anything right now, but you'll be interested in what's in there."

Auror Ron flicked back into existence for a moment. "It's upstairs, eh?"

"Yeah. On the desk. Up the stairs, second door to the right."

"Be right back." He made to leave but stopped. "And don't go anywhere."

"I'm just going to go have another smoke. Definitely need one."

Ron nodded at me and made his way through the people to take the stairs, so I took that as my cue to go back out and have another cigarette. When I got out to the garden the place was empty, no bald-headed bigots to give me shit, no Christine to drag me down a painful memory lane, just an empty garden. I made my way over to the bench, sat down, and fished out one of my last three smokes. Right before I took out my wand to light it, though, I heard my name being called from behind the azaleas. I pulled out my wand, leveled it at the bushes and stood up, backing away a few steps.

"Who's there?"

"Put down your wand, Hank."

Draco Malfoy stepped out from behind the bushes, and he shocked the fuck out of me, not just for showing up there completely out of the blue but because he looked...well, he looked like shit. He hadn't shaved for days, his hair was a scraggly mess and he was filthy. I knew better than that, though. I may not be much except a parchment Auror, but some of Harry's training stuck with me. I leveled the wand at his face. "Why did I have to borrow your clothes the first time I stayed at your house?"

A smile broke across his face, albeit very briefly. "Because my house elf burned your clothing."

I lowered my wand. "Sonofabitch, Draco, what the hell are you doing here?"

He barged through the azaleas, not caring that they were in his path, and grabbed a hold of my arm. "I am saving you. We don't have much time."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the fuck are you talking about, saving me?" I nodded towards the house. "Ron's in there, I'm fine."

"No, you are not." He glanced quickly towards the house. "You spoke with two bald men earlier today, out here, did you not? They're Knights of the Wand, Hank, and they're coming."

"Shit!" I shook my head. "We gotta tell Ron, we've gotta get everyone out of here."

The back door slammed and Ron walked out, looking at the very small box in the palm of his hand. "I think it's small enough Hank, if..." He looked up, dropped the box and reached for his wand. "What's going on?"

Draco took a look at me and I could see fear in his eyes, along with something else that I couldn't place. Before I could say anything Draco lowered his wand. "Weasley, they're coming. Get everyone out. I'm taking Hank to a safe place."

Before I could object, or Ron could object, Draco spun on the spot, pulling me with him, and we squeezed through the straw that was Disapparition.

-ooo-

When I came out of the always disorienting haze of Apparition I felt Draco's hand cover my mouth.

"You are safe, for now. Do not tell her your real name. Follow my lead and don't ask questions." He moved his hand away and stared at me. "Do you understand?"

I nodded took a quick glance around. We were on the banks of some water, in what was undoubtedly a swamp. It was humid as hell and as the bugs flitted around I waved my hand in front of my face, trying to get them away. Off in the distance something resembling a shack sat on the water, tethered to the bank.

"Let's go. Now, Hank."

Draco began walking towards the houseboat thing and I followed, worried. He'd spent time in and around New Orleans when the Muggle Studies professors went missing and had come back with some knowledge of a strain of magic that was, well, questionable at best. Not exactly dark, but I didn't imagine Hogwarts teaching it in the near future. The whole 'don't tell them your name' thing wasn't making my imagination stop, either. I figured as soon as we got to that boat and went inside it would be like every bad New Orleans zombie movie, with chicken feet and blood and other weird shit.

"Stop here." Draco looked at me and his face was full of tension. "I will let her know."

I stood there, unsure of what to do and nervous as hell. _What the fuck was happening? What about Lindell's place? What about the Knights of the Wand? Would Ron have time to get everybody out, or would they have to fight? _Since I didn't know how long I'd be standing out there, swatting bugs, I reached in and lit one of my last cigarettes. I'd made it half-way through when Draco came out of the boat, trailed by a woman. She looked young, but that wasn't what got my attention; her hair was in massive dreadlocks, long, and she looked like what I imagined Medusa would look like if she was real and not some under twenty black girl.

When they stopped in front of me the girl looked me up and down, glanced at Draco and then turned to me. "You got an extra? I'm all out."

I glanced quickly at Draco and saw an almost imperceptible nod. "Sorry, just got one left. Want the rest?"

"Beats nothing." She took the cigarette from me and after a long drag gave me a smile. "Hold on a sec, child. Arms out."

I held out my arms and she waved her wand around. It wasn't like the wands from Ollivander; instead of being all smooth and polished it looked rough-hewn, as if she'd just snapped it off of a tree. As the light blue light extended from the tip of her wand I felt it flow over me as if I'd been dunked in cold water. Before I could shiver, though, it was gone.

"Just like you said, Malfoi." She turned to Draco. "It's that bad, eh? Knights want him?"

"Very much so." Draco turned to me. "This is Delphine. She..."

"Hush, you." She turned to me. "I don't wanna know your name, boy, and the less you know the better for all of us. But let me take care of this first." With another wave of her wand the tracking band from the hospital turned black and then fell to ash.

I swept the ashes off of my wrist. So much for Ron knowing where I was.

"Ok, now, come on in. It ain't much, not for someone dressed like you." She gave me a sly smile. "Single file, boys."

I fell in line behind her and Draco followed me. For some reason I thought back on the old cowboy and indian movies I'd watched as a kid, how the indians went single file. It also made me think of Star Wars, how the sandpeople went single file to hide their numbers. It didn't make me comfortable.

The houseboat was like most wizarding things, bigger on the inside, but this one wasn't like the tents that I'd stayed in with Harry and Ron. It didn't have that feeling of not being used except on occasion; the place looked like it had been lived in for decades. Centuries maybe. Everything seemed a bit run down and well-used, and if I was honest it also looked like it could use a really deep cleaning. There were bookshelves, a cauldron simmering on a stove from about 1940 and, much to my chagrin, there were clusters of chicken feet tied together and hanging over the doorway.

"Sit." Delphine pointed to a well-worn table with mismatched chairs. "And wait."

After she left, going through a doorway with faded red curtains I looked over to Draco but he shook his head. I felt the houseboat move slightly with the water and started to get really nervous. _What the fuck was going on?_

Delphine emerged from the room, moving the curtains aside, and I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She had on an old men's shirt from which she'd removed the sleeves and the top was unbuttoned quite a ways, giving me a good look at her cleavage and the multitude of necklaces she wore. Most were pendants on leather straps, but one was a gold chain that held a rough looking red stone about the size of a marble. Her legs were mostly bare, thanks to the cut off jeans that were also pretty short and she didn't have on any shoes. As she made her way over I couldn't help but watch her hips.

She sat down directly across from me and sat a worn deck of playing cards on the table. "Now, we's gonna play a little game. I'm gonna shuffle these and I want you to pick as many cards as you think you need."

I looked over to Draco and he nodded. This just kept getting weirder and weirder. I reached out to touch the cards but she stopped me.

"No, child, left hand."

"No shuffling?" I felt Draco kick me under the table.

"Oh, so you's want to shuffle, eh?" Delphine smiled. "Be my guest."

I reached out with my left hand, took the cards and shuffled them three times. After that I sat them back on the table, and after receiving a nod from her I pulled out a card. Not knowing what else to do I pulled out four more.

Delphine nodded appreciatively and moved the deck to the side of the table. She flipped over the first card, the Jack of Spades. As I stared at the card the thing started to change, the Jack began to disappear and I saw...me. It was like I was in one of the WeasleyVision movies, as the world had faded away and there was nothing left. The image of me stood in my classroom at Hogwarts but there weren't any students in the seats. Almost as soon as I'd recognized everything it all snapped away, leaving me once again at the table.

Delphine took the card and put it back on top of the deck. "That's how you see yourself. So you's a teacher, huh? Next card."

I looked at the four cards in front of me and picked one from the middle two. Turning it over I saw the Two of Diamonds. Again, the card began to dissolve and I saw myself...in bed with Christine Rowan. But it wasn't me, it was the old me, the younger me. I had a lot of hair. I watched as Christine sat up, got out of bed and walked away. Once again I was jolted back to reality.

"Your past." Delphine smiled. "Two of Diamonds says you could have been happy with her, but wouldn't last. Hurt you, didn't it, child?"

"Yeah." I responded automatically and then waited for Draco to kick me under the table again. Nothing happened.

"Next one." Delphine leaned forward, her red pendant swaying closer over the table. "Go on, now."

I reached over and picked up the end card and turned it over. The Four of Hearts. Again the card began to change but this time I saw my children. Hieronymus sitting next to Virginia, handing her a small teething toy. That image faded quickly.

"Ah, so you's a family man." Delphine cocked an eyebrow at me. "I ain't gonna say no more. You'll find out eventually. Go on, two left."

I didn't have time to wonder why that one faded so quickly so reached over and turned over the card on the left. Queen of Hearts. The swirl happened again and this time I found myself standing next to a bed, completely naked. This time wasn't like the rest, though, as on the other cards I was watching as things happened to me. This card...it was like I was in the card, in the vision. Before I could wonder Delphine walked in, wearing nothing but her gold necklace, the dull red pendant now shining brightly, almost too brightly, as I couldn't look at it for more than a second.

"_See anything you like, child?" Delphine walked over and I couldn't help but stare at her. "I've been lonely, so lonely. I could teach you so many things."_

_It was like I was in a trance, looking at her. She was absolutely gorgeous. The way her hair framed her face, the thick dreadlocks falling down over her shoulders, partially obscuring her perfect breasts. I could almost see what it would be like, endless days with her, sweaty, wonderful nights._

"_All of that and more." She put her hand over my heart and then pulled it back like she'd been stung._

"_I'm married." I took a step back from her._

I snapped back to the world, feeling the hard, wooden chair underneath me, my ragged breathing. I opened my eyes and looked across the table; in my peripheral vision I saw Delphine's pendant glow for a second and then return to its normal color.

She gave me an appraising look. "Last card."

I didn't want to flip it over, afraid of what I would find. My hand shook as I flipped it over. It was blank. Nothing happened. I looked over to Delphine in confusion.

"They can't all be winners, child." She sat back in her chair and tilted her head at me. "Future's uncertain. Tell you what, pick one more. Middle of the deck."

I followed her instructions and pulled out a card. After a few seconds I flipped it over. The Ace of Clubs dissolved and once again I was pulled out of reality, but this time to a place I definitely remembered. I was in Melody's old house, my kilt was on the floor, and I was in bed with her. It was a good memory, one of the best, actually, as it was the first time that Melody and I got together, right after this red carpet thing for the Harpies. I watched, because as I slept Melody leaned up onto her side and traced her finger through my hair.

I wanted to stay and watch that but, as before, I was back in the houseboat. I couldn't take my eyes off of Delphine, as they seemed to stare at me, unblinking. I kept her gaze for a few moments and then turned away, blinking furiously.

"Don't ever question yourself." She got up from the table and walked over to me, taking my face with her hands. "You, child, you got somethin' everybody wants. Nobody's pulled my card in two hundred years, and you's the only one who ever said no. She's why." She kissed me on the forehead. "So Henry Aaron MacDonald Boyd, you needs help, do you?"

"Uh..." I looked into her eyes and couldn't help but answer. "I do."

"Good." She stepped away from me and walked into the kitchen without another word.

As soon as she left I looked over to Draco, keeping my voice low. "So the name thing's fucked."

"Obviously." He tapped his fingers on the table. "This may have been a bad idea."

"Really. What now?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. It was different when I was first here."

Before I could respond Delphine came back into the room, a steaming bowl of something in her hands. She sat the bowl down on the table and looked over to Draco. "You still wear that knife?"

Draco reached into his pocket and brought out a small, silver knife with a black handle.

"Good." She took the knife from him, reached over and grabbed my hand. Before I could object she pricked each of my fingers and then turned my hand over so the blood could drip into the bowl. It steamed even harder and then she released my hand.

"Delphine..." Draco leaned forward.

"No, Malfoi." She gestured with the back of her hand and Draco's chair slid a few feet away from the table. She then picked up the bowl with two hands and began to drink from it. After a few moments she sat it down. "I thought I was right. You ain't got much magic, boy."

"I've heard that before." I looked over to Draco. "What? You know it's true."

"Hush now." Delphine shook her head at me. "Just give me a moment." She took another drink, swished it around in her mouth a bit and then swallowed. "Can't do it, not properly. Not enough magic. You's have to have help through their wards. They lookin' for you, that's the truth. You really got 'em riled up." She turned to Draco. "I can keep him safe, but not long. If'n I bind him..."

"No." Draco shook his head. "Absolutely not."

She laughed, a throaty attractive laugh. "Oh, I's just teasing. He couldn't be bound, too much in here for that." She tapped her chest, right above her heart and looked at me. "You a one woman man, boy, nothin' gonna change that. My magic'll keep you hid for a bit, help you out some, don't know how long as you the weakest-ass wizard I seen in years. They can scry all they wants to but they ain't gonna find you. I expect you got a month, two, maybe more." She turned to Draco. "That work for you, son?"

He nodded. "Thank you."

"Thank you what?" She smiled at him. "Is that any way to treat your old..."

Draco swallowed. "Thank you, grand-mère."

"You's welcome." Delphine stood up. "Now git, both of you. Go."

We stood up but Draco stopped right before the door. "Grand-mère, about my wife..."

Delphine shook her head. "I can't help you, son. I tried, but it ain't nothin' I ever seen before."

Draco nodded, opened the door and waited for me. I looked back for a moment at Delphine, not knowing what to expect, maybe that she would turn into an old crone or something, but she just stood there at the table, leaning on it, and winked at me. That was enough for me, so I headed out the door as quickly as possible. Draco closed the door, took my arm and walked me out of there as fast as possible, refusing to say anything until we were at least fifty feet away and by a large tree.

"Hold on a second." I stopped, pulled my arm away, and dug into my pocket. "If there's ever been a time I've needed a smoke it's now." I took it out, found my wand and tried to light the cigarette but the flame came out of the tip of my wand like a goddamned blowtorch. "Jesus!" Draco held up his wand with a small, precise flame so I lit my smoke. "Ok, you've got a lot of explaining. I mean, shit, was that your grandmother?"

He sighed. "Of sorts. She is a Malfoi, though not by name."

"What's that mean?"

"Remember how we did the research on the old Malfois? The old, old ones? She's one of those."

"Holy shit, Draco. How old is she?"

"Three hundred and fifty, I think."

"How...what the fuck?" I took a deep drag off of my smoke. "How is that possible?"

He motioned with his head so we started walking. "Hank, you saw that red stone she wore, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah? So?"

"She...it's dark magic. She takes...lovers. It doesn't end well for them."

My brain started working. "Holy fucking shit. So is she a succubus or something?"

"It's a similar magic. Like I told you before, my family history is not something I'm very proud of."

"Jesus Christ." I stopped. "So what was the whole point of that..." I waved my hand in the general direction of the houseboat.

"Protection." He turned and looked at me intently. "You are being hunted, Hank. I think the whole Potter Series books are simply to get you over here so they can kill you."

"Fuck me!"

"That would be the best outcome." He smirked. "Well, it would have been for grand-mère."

"Not funny." I took another drag. "So what's this protection thing? Was that the bit with my blood? Hermione's told me of all the shit that witches can do with someone's blood."

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering what to say. "It is a...family protection. We discussed it in the boat. Grand-mère Delphine does not do favours lightly."

I considered his words and felt my stomach drop. "What bargain did you make? Draco?" Without a word he started walking again, leaving me to follow. When I got alongside of him I looked over. "How bad?"

"I have to obtain some ingredients for her. I will say no more on the subject."

"Fuck." I kept walking, as I knew he wouldn't budge on the topic. When we'd made it another couple of hundred yards, still close to the water, I couldn't contain my curiosity. "When the Muggle Studies professors were missing you came over here and learned some weird magic shit. It was her, wasn't it? She was the one who taught you?"

"Yes." He didn't look at me and kept walking.

"What was the price?"

"The still-beating heart of an enemy."

"Christ." I stopped. "Draco..."

He turned, angry. "The Knights have no love for me as well. Don't ask anymore, Hank. For your own good."

Standing there Ron's words about Draco turning dark filled my head. It wasn't like Draco, not the Draco I knew, but there was a reason the Malfoys and Malfois were always considered a dark family. "Don't do it. Don't go to the dark side, Draco. You've got Astoria and Scorpius. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to the dark side."

"Some ancient Muggle philosopher?" He sneered.

"Sort of. Yoda from Star Wars." I reached into my pocket for another smoke and pulled out the empty pack. "Fuck, I need one." I looked up to see him staring at me. "Come on, man, don't do it. Do you want Scorpius to grow up with people talking about how his dad's a dark wizard? You've gone through all that shit with your dad. Don't do it to him."

Draco stood there for a moment, unmoving, until a tear fell. He covered his face with his hands and sunk down to the mushy floor of the swamp on his knees. "I can't take it, Hank. I just can't take it anymore."

I knelt down next to him and put my hands on his shoulders. "I know it scares you, it scares me, too, but we'll get through this. We have to."

We stayed like that for a few moments and then he stood up, wiped away his tears and nodded. "Thank you."

"It's what friends do." I stood up, tried to clean off my knees and realized that my suit was fucked. "So now what?" I put my hands in my pockets and felt something, something that wasn't there before. I pulled it out and there, in my hand, was the Ace of Clubs. "What the fuck?"

"Grand-mère." Draco nodded. "Reminding you. Come on, I'll take you back now. Hopefully Weasley took care of things."

-ooo-

Draco Apparated me back to Lindell's house, out in the garden and disappeared without saying a word. I didn't know what to do so I headed back into the house. The place was full of AAB agents, one man with a bandaged hand, and I looked to see anybody I recognized. Since I didn't I started to make my way through the crowd when I was shoved up against the wall, a wand at my throat.

"Who the hell are you? No sudden moves!"

I stared at the angry AAB agent. "I'm Hank Boyd, is Ron Weasley here?"

The agent looked at a female agent. "Go get Weasley."

It was a tense few moments before I saw Ron round the corner. I felt myself relax but he pulled out his wand and stuck it to my temple. "What does Melody do when she drinks Bill's Specials?"

"I don't know how she gets the shoes stuck in the ceiling."

"It's him." Ron lowered his wand and the AAB agent did the same. "What the hell happened? Where's Malfoy?"

"I don't know where Draco is, honest. He just dropped me back here and took off."

"Where'd you go?" He looked at me. "And what happened to your tracking bracelet? You dropped off the map."

I opened my mouth to say something but...nothing came out. I tried again but it was exactly the same. "I uh, can't say. I'm trying to, but I can't. Something won't let me."

"Bloody Malfoys." Ron shook his head.

"Is everybody ok?" I looked at the AAB agents who were watching us. "What happened?"

One of the AAB agents tried to get Ron's attention but he waved them off. "He's got Auror clearance, so bugger off." He turned to me. "Knights of the Wand came here, looking for you, I guess. Malfoy's warning helped, so it was better than it could have been. Lindell took a hit, but it was just a stunner. We got three of them before they took off." A nasty smile formed on his face. "We got that twat from the garden. Can't wait to have a little chat with him."

"Good, he was an asshole."

I saw her coming through the crowd and before I could say anything she hugged me. "I'm so glad you're ok, Hank."

I patted her back. "It's ok, Chris. I'm fine." I glanced over her shoulder and saw Ron looking at me strangely. "Really, Chris, I'm fine."

She broke away from me and gave me an embarrassed look. "I'm sorry, it's just...I was worried they...and with Melody and your kids, I...I just thought the worst."

"You always did go to the worst possible scenario." I looked over at Ron. "Shut up, Weasley."

"You two must have been a barrel of fun together." He rolled his eyes. "Enough of that, though. I think we'd best be getting home."

"What about..."

"Plans have changed, Hank. Especially after today." He didn't say another word and left the room, asking one of the AAB agents where someone named Wilson was.

I assumed that was the AAB agent in charge and then found myself standing next to Chris again. She was still pretty, that was for sure, and she'd been worried about me, but she had also been worried about Melody and the kids. I thought back to the weird visions from the playing cards in that little houseboat with Draco's grand-mère and it hit me ever harder than before; I was in love with my wife. Not even Delphine's magic could change that. If that was the case, then I had no worries at all about my feelings about Chris. I'd always love her, that was for sure, but it was something different than with Melody. Who knew that going to a three-hundred plus year old witch's house and turning her down could show that to me so very clearly?

"Hank?" Chris looked at me. "Are you all right?"

"I could use a drink. And a smoke, I'm out."

She took my arm and led me towards the bar. I didn't have time to fix a drink before Lindell was there.

"Thank God you're all right, Hank." He ran alongside of his face. "When everything happened it was chaos, and then you were missing..."

"It's ok. I'm fine." I moved over so one of the guests I didn't know from the remembrance ceremony could fix a drink. "Really. Sorry to have worried everyone. Is everything ok?"

"It was horrible, all those spells." Lindell steadied himself against the bar. "I felt so useless. I haven't used my wand in years."

As Lindell spoke I felt a creeping feeling, like something was slowly squeezing me. I felt adrenaline start pumping through me, like I was getting ready for a football game, but mostly on my back. I turned to see a woman in green robes staring at me. Then, almost as if I wasn't in control of my body, I grabbed a bottle off of the bar and smashed her over the head with it.

"Hank! What the hell?" Lindell stared at me.

"What the fuck?" Ron walked over, wand out. "What's going on?"

Christine stepped away from me. "He just hit that woman with a bottle!"

I blinked a few times and held up my hands, a cracked bottle of vodka in one of them. "I don't know, I just felt this weird shit come over me and it just happened!"

"Check her out." Ron pointed to an AAB agent nearby.

After a few moments the agent pulled out a small vial from the woman's robes. He did a quick diagnostic spell and placed it on top of the bar. "Poison."

"Fucking hell." I sat the vodka bottle down on the bar and leaned into it unsteadily. "Fucking hell."

After a thorough search of the woman's robes more items were found, all dark and deadly. Lindell confirmed her identity, one of his distant cousins, and after consulting his family book found that she was somewhere down the line kin to the Knights of the Wand bastards.

Ron looked over to me as the AAB agents bound her and prepped her for transport. "I don't know what Malfoy did to you, but it worked. Say your goodbyes, we need to leave."

I said goodbye to Lindell, promising to write. Christine said she would visit soon, as we had rescheduled that family portrait that was supposed to take place over Easter. It was odd, saying goodbye like normal after everything that had happened. Eventually, though, Ron took my arm and initiated a portkey, depositing us in the international portkey station in Washington DC.

I sat there in the hard plastic waiting seat, still freaked out over everything that had happened. Finally, though, it was our turn to leave. As we made our way through the crowds I spotted something, something familiar, someone familiar, actually. She stood by the coffee vendor, sipping a cup, and winked at me through her dark dreadlocks.

-ooo-

I didn't get to go home immediately, of course. First it was the trip to St. Mungo's where the Healers issued me a brand new diagnostic bracelet. They were a bit testy at me for removing the one from the hospital in the UMS, but I just nodded and took it. There was literally no way I could tell them how I'd lost the other one. After that it was over to the Ministry and debriefing. Harry listened to Ron's report, and it was surprising how much detail he'd provided, but in the end we finally finished. They verified that I couldn't say anything about my little trip with Malfoy, and at one point one of the Unspeakables was brought in to examine me. That sucked. The man or woman, I couldn't tell, waved their wand at me, wrote something down, handed it to Harry and left.

I wanted to ask what they'd given Harry but by that time I just wanted to go home. Luckily I was cleared after a few moments and then escorted to the massive Floo fireplaces by Ron.

"Listen, Hank...Melody knows about the attack. We told her you're ok, but you probably shouldn't say a whole lot else."

"Like I can." I shrugged. "What was the deal with that Unspeakable? What'd they tell Harry?"

"Dunno, mate." He reached into his pocket and handed me a small box. "Here's your stuff, you know, the stuff you got from..."

"Doctor Eittel." I took it from him. "Thanks, I'd forgotten about this. Uh, Ron? How do I get it back to normal?"

"Ask Melody." He put his arm around me. "You really are a crap wizard, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Thanks, though. For everything."

"Ah, fuck off." He shoved me towards the fireplace. "Besides, you and Melody are taking the kids soon, you didn't forget that, did you?"

"No problem." I put the little box into my pocket. "Hey, what about my luggage?"

"Already at Colony House." He rolled his eyes. "Give me some credit."

"Thanks." I took a pinch of Floo powder. After everything all I wanted was to go home, kiss my wife and see my kids. "Colony House."


End file.
